


Part I: Bonds Forged In Fire [Redux]

by WinterXAssassin



Series: From Team To Family [Redux] [1]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms
Genre: Action, Action/Adventure, Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BrOTPs everywhere man, Character Death Fix, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic Friendship, F/M, Family, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, Halo: Reach, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I buddyship all members of this team with one another, I'm Bad At Tagging, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, Lots of headcanons used, Male-Female Friendship, Military, Near Death Experiences, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Female/Female Relationships, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Science Fiction, Swearing, Team Bonding, Team Feels, Team as Family, about damn time, because look dark shit happened to Artemis when she was a trainee, headcanons, it's ONI; dark shit is their MO, with one exception of course
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-06-21 04:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15549549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterXAssassin/pseuds/WinterXAssassin
Summary: So, this is the soft reboot of the first story of my new series set in theHalouniverse, titled From Team to Family [Redux]. It centres around Noble Team, a group of highly-trained Spartans who were deployed to the planet Reach, in what was suspected to be human rebel activity...only, it turned out, the alien hegemony known as the Covenant have discovered humanity's military stronghold, and have swiftly attacked with numerous warships and soldiers. This is the story detailing the events of what happened on Reach (glossed over, mostly, and my own interpretation), and what happens afterwards.This is an Alternate Universe of my creating where all of Noble Team survive. Meaning the fact that they survived is a Thing. Please don't hate on me just for that fact alone. I didn't like the fact that all these new characters died after they were just introduced....I just hope I did everyone justice.





	1. Caught Inside This Tidal Wave

**Author's Note:**

> **Chapter title taken from _Blow Me Away_ by Breaking Benjamin, part of _Halo 2's_ soundtrack
> 
> Please note that this is HIGHLY CANON DIVERGENT. Meaning, a lot of things will either a) conflict with canon, or b) not be part of canon at all whatsoever.  
> Don't hate on me with reasons such as "oh, such-and-such didn't die" or "they couldn't POSSIBLY survive something like that", or "such-and-such wouldn't act like that". This is an AU, built up on a lot of headcanons, as well as the wild imaginings of my brain. Meaning that a lot of the time, the characters WILL BE OOC. Don't judge me on that, okay? It doesn't matter if they're OOC - these guys weren't exactly very developed characters in canon, and this is MY interpretation on how they think and how they act. If you don't like it, then don't read the story - simple as that! No need for any unnecessary hate.
> 
> Also, my Noble Six is female (which is already diverging from canon, as officially, Six is male), named Artemis Fox, and was created as a clone of the Master Chief by ONI. It's just my interpretation of how Six gained the same rating - hyper-lethal vector - as one of the greatest soldiers in history (well, for Halo, anyway). If you have a problem with it, fine. Just don't whine to me about it.
> 
> We good?  
> Cool!  
> So go ahead, read the story, leave a like if you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave a comment - just no hate, because that's mean, and I don't like dealing with mean people!
> 
> This is, in fact, a soft reboot of the original series (which I have left up, for those who have enjoyed it and would like to read it, or those who happen to come across it and read it for the first time! I'm not cruel, you know) _From Team To Family_ , hence the almost-same title. I...have hit too many roadblocks with that first series (particularly the first story), and thus, I have decided on what I'm calling a "soft reboot". Not the same as a "hard reboot", where EVERYTHING changes...here, most of the ideas (such as everyone living, the team bonding as a family, escaping Reach and striking out on their own, etc. etc.) will remain the same, as well as the plotlines. A lot of OTHER things, however, will be rather different. I've noticed that my writing has improved a LOT since I started this entire series last year (nearly the same time of year, too!), and, well....I just couldn't continue it any more. Too many things didn't read well, or felt too clunky, or just downright "off"...and so, here is the soft reboot.
> 
> I....hope you guys enjoyed this as much as the original - perhaps more!

Olympic Tower (ONI HQ), City of New Alexandria, Eposz, Planet Reach, Epsilon Eridani system, August 23rd, 2552

Jorge was dead.

Artemis-B312 wasn’t sure what to make of that. Jorge had been like an older brother of sorts to her, and she’d been quick to reciprocate, and now he was just...gone. He’d sacrificed himself for her to detonate the slipspace drive bomb, and he was gone. Mostly, she just felt _numb_.

The Covenant was glassing New Alexandria.

She’d seen it, flying on a mission for Kat, out the windshield of the Falcon. Battlecruisers, swinging into position overhead, before lances of fire poured out of their glassing ports, decimating whatever was in their path. Sometimes, it had been too close for comfort, and the Troopers sitting gunner made noises of alarm.

Green-blue orbs observed her teammates keenly, the dogtags of their fallen member clutched in the palm of her gauntleted right hand.

The Lieutenant Commander – Kat, second in command, cryptanalyst, her best friend – had her head down, working on getting a link to SATCOM up for Carter. There was grime on the older Beta Spartan’s features, and she looked weary, but determined to finish what she was doing. Artemis noticed that she had her weight kept off the left leg as much as possible, and she’d guessed that that was when the Covies had burst into Olympic Tower, taking the Spartan by surprise.

With knees bent, forearms resting loosely over them, seated on the floor, back braced against a riser behind him, the Warrant Officer – Emile, assault specialist, angry bastard – looked completely at ease. Casual, like he was simply relaxing off-duty, rather than awaiting fresh orders. His kukri knife was held loose in his right hand, and the grinning skull on the visor of his EVA helmet glowed eerily in the faint, murky light streaming in from the windows.

The other Warrant Officer – Jun, marksman and scout, too chatty – sat on the edge of a balustrade, pair of binoculars in his hands, watching the goings-on of the Covenant in the city high above them. He was, unusually silent, save for when he’d remarked Artemis’ arrival with a, “Hey, you made it.”

Of course, Emile had retorted sarcastically that it was a _regular family reunion_ , and she’d heard a dry snort from Kat. He never knew just when to keep his mouth shut, and he was always masking his emotions with humour. Artemis idly wondered if he missed big ol’ Jorge; she could never quite tell if he hated the man, or respected him, albeit grudgingly.

The redhead loosened her hand, allowing Jorge’s dogtags to tangle down in full view, and Emile shook his head, sounding more subdued when he said, “Keep ’em. He gave ’em to you. I’ll honour him my own way.” He waved his kukri for emphasis, pointing it at himself, and shook his head again.

“Jorge always said he would never leave Reach.” Jun chimed in with his own comment, gaze falling away from the window as he glanced over his shoulder to look at the rest of the team.

Emile then _chuckled_ , and everyone’s heads turned to _him_ , wondering just what it was he had to say this time – and why he would dare _laugh_ at such a melancholic statement.

“The big man _was_ sentimental...” he uttered, shaking his head again.

Carter – Commander, team leader, hard to get a read on – frowned, blue eyes dulled by exhaustion sharpening at his subordinate. “He gave his life thinking he just saved the planet. We should all be so lucky.” He pushed himself off the trashed Banshee he’d been leaning on, and wandered over to the window, one hand curling into a fist at his side.

There was silence yet again. It was like nobody knew how to hold a conversation, now that Jorge was gone. He _had_ been the glue that had held them all together – at least, it seemed that way to Artemis, and she’d never been the best at reading people.

Of course, it was Jun, ever talkative, who broke the silence. “Sir, that true about Gauntlet, Red, and Echo Teams assigned to civilian evac ops?”

That made the Commander irritated. He whirled, rounding on Kat, features contorting into a scowl. He knew she’d been the one to leak such information, and it was quite clear that he wasn’t very happy with his XO poking her nose into business that wasn’t hers, nor relating to her or the others of Noble Team. “Those are _senior-level_ communiqués...”

“I hear what I hear,” Kat lifted one shoulder in a shrug, glancing at Carter. She obviously didn’t care that she was getting into trouble for the umpteenth time. “Point is, why put Spartans on defensive deployments?”

_Here we go again..._

Artemis resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn’t like the others could see her expression anyway. Instead, she settled for a quiet huff that would have carried through her helmet’s external speakers, and crossed her arms over her chest, after stuffing Jorge’s dogtags into one of the pouches on her chestplate.

“I need that link to SATCOM, Kat.” Carter’s jaw tightened, and he shifted his grip on the helmet tucked under his arm.

“Chasing it, but this console’s got more shrapnel in it than transceivers...” Kat shrugged _both_ shoulders this time, and the gesture was a lot more noticeable. She was evidently more focused on finding out why three teams of Spartan-IIIs were protecting civilians, rather than fighting the Covenant than they themselves were. “...You didn’t answer my question.”

“You wanna know if we’re losin’?” the Alpha’s gaze drifted back to his second-in-command. Perhaps he wanted to clarify just what it was that she was asking. After all, she could have meant a number of different things, any one of them requiring a different response.

“I _know_ we’re losing!” Kat shifted half her body around, hostility in every line of her armoured form. Her own temper was flaring, and to Artemis, it looked like she was holding back from saying more than that. More...colourful...things. “I want to know if we’ve _lost_.”

The redhead tuned them out, although she couldn’t help her gaze shift between the pair when Carter moved closer, snatching a communicator out of the pile and moving back towards the window. She didn’t know what was happening at this point, and she honestly didn’t care. So long as it didn’t directly involve her, then it was none of her business. It would only _be_ her business if Colonel Holland was giving them new orders.

Until then, she would try to _think_ , maybe take a minute to breathe—

“We got movement. Multiple Covenant vehicles vacating the area... and they’re in a hurry.” Jun sounded on edge, peering through the binoculars again, and leaning forwards.

Artemis’ head snapped towards him, before she looked at Emile, seeing him bracing himself to get to his feet, as he muttered, “How often you see Covenant retreat for no reason?”

_What the hell?_

“Radiation flare! Big! Forty million roentgens!” Kat exclaimed, staring with a horrified expression at her datapad, which displayed a Geiger counter on the screen.

That couldn’t have been right. Just how close _were_ the alien bastards?

Carter turned to them, still grasping the communicator in one hand. “Just lost Holland. What’s going on?” He wanted answers.

“Atomic excitement scrambled the signal. Ninety million now!” The Lieutenant Commander sounded frantic, anxious, her words coming out rushed.

_The fuck- oh no, oh no...please don’t let it be what I think it is-_

“Source?” Carter demanded, snapping into Artemis’ thought train.

“Airborne. Close!” Kat looked up at him, and there was raw fear in her azure eyes.

_Fuck. Fuck!_

“How close?” Sierra 259 wanted clarification.

The room lit up with a blinding flash, and a shockwave shattered the windows with explosive force, wind howling through the room. Jun was flung to the ground, binoculars forgotten, alarm on his face. Carter dove to the ground, his helmet discarded in the process, and Artemis shoved Kat to the floor beside her, because the cryptanalyst was too stunned to move.

The Covenant were all but right outside the building, and they were glassing the surrounding area.

“ _THAT_ CLOSE!” The Lieutenant Commander had to _shout_ above the noise, and her ears must have been ringing, because she remained on her hands and knees while the others got to their feet, her head swinging from side to side.

Artemis scrambled to her feet, and hauled Kat up with her, lingering a moment so that the other Beta could grab her helmet, before they ran together for the second elevator. “C’mon, c’mon...” she muttered; it was the best she could muster for encouragement at this point in time. Everything was happening too suddenly, and she was struggling to process it all.

It took Kat a couple of tries to hit the elevator button, the doors finally closing and the capsule sliding down the tube. The anxiety had been infectious; it was as clear as day to Artemis, when her friend asked, “First glassing?”

“That, and it’s my home city.” the redhead answered quietly, her gaze unfocusing for just a few moments as the realization of that sunk in. It wasn’t just that the Covenant had to raze it, oh no. They wanted to burn the place to the ground, and turn it into a hellscape, too. She couldn’t help it when her hands curled into fists at the thought of the aliens up there in their ships, _laughing_ and making noises of glee as they rained fire from above.

_You damn bastards... first you take my teammate, and now you take my home town. You won’t dare take Reach from us, too. We’ll send you scampering, with your tails tucked between your legs._

_...Not that you have tails, but...metaphor._

“Me too,” Kat uttered. She kept talking rapidly, anxiety getting the better of her, and not knowing how to slow down. “Don’t worry, I’m on it. Our best option is a fallout bunker on Sublevel 2, ninety-six metres northeast. We get orders from Holland, Sir?”

“We’re being redeployed to SWORD Base.” Even Carter was not quite as cool in the face of pressure as he’d always been since she’d first met him. The feelings of unease had infected the lot of them, and no wonder. Sure, they’d likely experienced glassings before, but _this_ close? _That_ was unlikely.

“SWORD?! Covenant own it now!” Jun sounded incredulous. She couldn’t see the marksman’s face, but she knew that his expression would be a mixture of bewildered and frustrated.

“Which is why they want us for a torch-and-burn op. Keep Doctor Halsey’s excavation data from falling into enemy hands.” His voice faded somewhat with distance, and Artemis caught the _thud_ of their elevator landing, followed by the hiss of the doors opening.

“If it hasn’t already.” Kat responded. Now it was _their_ turn; the second the doors slid open, Artemis _sprinted_ towards cover across the room, giving her teammate a nudge to get her to move faster.

Something didn’t feel right. That open space above their heads...the damaged roof... even if Jun had stated all of the Covenant vehicles had retreated, what if one had been left behind? What if there was a lone sniper up there, ready to take out any humans scrambling for cover?

Carter didn’t dismiss her concerns, but acknowledged them. “Maybe, but according to Holland, the Covenant are still hunting for something.” He and the other two turned, waving the lagging Betas to join them under cover. To safety, a hiding place for who-knows-how-long.

The faint hum of a Phantom’s engines were picked up by the audio receptors in Artemis’ helmet, faintly heard above the roaring from the Battlecruisers overhead.

_Shit!_

“Where does he get off calling a demolition op Priority One--?” Kat stopped talking the moment Artemis gave her a _shove_ towards the floor, a splitsecond before a needle sliced through the air where she’d been just moments before. A second shot rang out, and it punched through the back of Artemis’ thigh, but she didn’t take notice at that moment, instead drawing her Magnum and firing up at the Field Marshal that hung out the side of the dropship high above them.

Springing into action, their teammates came out of cover, and opened fire on the bulbous purple craft with their MA37s. Apparently, the pilot of that ship decided that they weren’t worth the effort, and the ship drifted off, the Elite’s shields flaring as they recovered.

Jun stepped forwards and helped Kat to her feet, backing towards the doors of the fallout bunker. Emile followed them, assault rifle still pointed to the gap in the roof, and Carter crouched before Artemis, helping her to her feet. “Up you get, Spartan, come on.”

The Beta attempted to take a step forward, but her leg gave out from under her, and she crumpled to the ground in an unceremonious heap, biting back a cry of pain. That was when it became apparent to her that she’d taken a hit from the Elite, and she growled in frustration, before allowing Carter to wrap his arm under her armpits and help her limp into the bunker, the door sliding shut behind them.

“Let me take a look.” The bigger Spartan eased her to the ground, and crouched in front of her, taking his helmet off so that it wouldn’t obstruct him in viewing the wound. “Kat, flashlight? This place is too dark to see properly.” There was a flurry of movement, followed by a thin, powerful beam of light that glanced off her visor for just a second, before it was directed downwards. Artemis had to force herself to remain still when Carter gently probed at the wound; she gritted her teeth, and rumbled a quiet warning growl when he got too much into her personal space, which caused him to lean back, muttering an apology.

The Beta waved him off. “Sorry. Just – proximity alarm went off in my head, and I’m kind of...stressed. How does it look?”

“Well,” the flashlight clicked off, and Carter moved away further, though still close by, and seated himself on the concrete. “It went clean in and out, I’d say, because there’s Biofoam on either side of your leg. And a hole in both sides of your thigh armour plating. Not gonna lie, Lieutenant – it isn’t pretty. I don’t think anything’s detonated in there, although a couple of slivers of blamite might have rubbed off as the needle passed through.”

“Just what I needed.” Artemis muttered, taking off her helmet and settling it onto the ground nearby. If it was a wound bad enough to have needed that much Biofoam... well... no _wonder_ she was starting to get drowsy. Sometimes it messed with her body’s systems and caused her to fall asleep; she wasn’t one hundred percent sure why, but she had a feeling it had to do with the fact that her biology wasn’t entirely _...normal_. She ran a hand through her unruly hair, and blew out a whooshing sigh, her eyelids already beginning to droop.

_Stupid split-lip..._

She crawled over to Carter, since he was the closest Spartan to her, and almost as soon as she dropped her head to rest on his shoulder, she was fast asleep. She couldn’t have fought it – she was already exhausted from going non-stop since Operation: UPPER CUT, and the injuries she’d sustained falling from space had taken their toll, as well as the new wound now. She’d kept her head up for long enough, and now that the chance to sleep had finally been granted, she took it, and latched on as tight as she could.

She would wake when it was time for the fighting to continue.


	2. Together, The Pack Survives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SO. I am back at this game again, my pals! This time I bring you some more action, some angst, and yes, that's right, _all_ of Noble Team survive. Because fuck it, this is an AU, and they didn't _all_ deserve to be killed off like that, as harsh as the universe of Halo may be.
> 
> Also featuring emotional exhaustion to the point of tears. Because it can happen to grown-ass adults - women _and_ men alike - and it's not fun to deal with.
> 
> Enjoy! :3

Artemis didn’t know how the hell she’d gotten here.

In fact, she wasn’t even sure where “here” was.

Exhausted, stumbling with every step, hanging on by a thread, dodging the Covenant as she went. Somehow, through some stroke of luck, or just sheer determination – perhaps a mixture of both – the lone wolf was still alive. Still fighting.

She had to – there was no other choice.

The Covenant were still on the planet, and though most UNSC forces were gone by now, there was still a handful left that were fighting. And the aliens were doing their best to put them down.

Artemis had seen a small number of fellow Spartan-IIIs, all of them dead where they had been slain. There had also been a group of Troopers, valiant even to the last. Covies were determined not to leave any survivors – and kill as many “Demons” as possible, along the way.

She’d never felt so utterly, achingly alone.

She didn’t know where Jun was – at this point, it seemed rather likely that he now numbered among the dead. Carter was dead – rammed his wounded Pelican into a Scarab assault platform, and gone down in a fiery explosion. Emile was gone – he’d been attacked by a pair of Zealots. One of them he’d killed, and the other one had slashed at him before the two of them tumbled off the control box of the Onager. He’d taken the second Zealot down, and then succumbed to his own wounds. And Kat was fuck-knows-where, disappearing and taking Emile’s body with her.

The wolf of the pack was a lone wolf once more.

That was...odd. As Artemis wandered the plains of Asźod, she could have _sworn_ that she felt the temperature getting hotter. She squinted in confusion, and fiddled with her HUD’s settings, until it was set in such a way that it was a lot easier to see the environment around her.

Her pace stuttered, and her heart skipped a beat.

There, before her, was the burning, twisted wreckage of the Pelican and the Scarab. The dropship was a lot harder to see – due to the Scarab’s sheer size – but there were portions of grey-green poking out here and there. It was a mess. A mess and a grave. The grave of one of her teammates; the place where he now lay after making a necessary sacrifice to ensure her and Emile’s survival. It was a place of death.

She hung her head, and backed up, before spinning on her heel. She had to get out of here; had to escape the death and destruction. As her gaze shifted to the ground that lay ahead of her new direction, however, despite her shattered visor, she could see footprints. Footprints trailing _away from_ the wreckage. Footprints that were accompanied by spatters of blood. Footprints that could only belong to one clad in MJOLNIR armour.

Hope rose within her.

 _Carter’s alive? Surely. Who else would be walking away from this mess like that? There are no footprints leading_ to _the wreck. And he was the only one inside the Pelican. Couldn’t be a Sangheili – I’d recognize MJOLNIR bootprints out of a dozen and one others._

The redhead began following the trail, the burning junk behind her getting further and further away. She didn’t go very far, however – after about a klick and a half, the trail ended. Quite literally, in fact, when she almost tripped over the charred heap that had rather suddenly appeared in front of her. She hadn’t even been sure what it was, at first. A rock, perhaps, turned black from a nearby explosion. But the moment the toe of her boot came into contact with the shape, it emitted a very _human_ groan, before rolling over.

“ _Fugoff_ , Lieutenant... lemme sleep.” the figure growled, and Artemis nearly laughed aloud.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes. The hell are you even _alive_ , boss?” She crouched down beside him, and yes, beneath the charred _black_ , she could make out the blue of his armour. Tentatively, the Spartan reached out and brushed at some of the soot, gasping quietly at what she found. Beneath the armour, there was a gaping hole, and there was _bone_. “You’re in awful shape.”

Something in her demeanour must have snagged the Commander’s attention, because he pushed himself into a sitting position with a quiet grunt, wiping at some of the black soot that covered his golden visor. “Let me catch up a second here... where am I? Must’ve hit my head because I don’t remember much at the moment.”

“You rammed your Pelican into a Scarab. Sir.” Artemis stated flatly, helping him to his feet and trying to wince at the pained grunt he exhaled. “You’re half dead. Hell, so am I, but I think you’re in worse shape than I am. Your leg’s busted. Or at the very least there’s a hole in your leg. Can’t tell which – there’s too much gunk on your armour.” She braced when she saw him attempt to walk forwards only to stumble, and was there to catch him before he crashed back to the ground. “Take it easy!” she scolded. “You’re not in any shape to fight, let alone _walk_.”

“Beats me how the hell I managed to survive.” His Commando helmet swung from side to side, and his shoulders lifted and dropped in the faintest of shrugs. “Please tell me you’ve got a plan, because I don’t think I can come up with anything at the moment. I have a splitting headache. Probably... cracked my head on the windscreen or something.” He looked like he wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, but recalled his helmet was in place, and he dropped his hand back to his side with a noise of disgust.

The Lieutenant looked towards the horizon, before a sigh pushed past her lips. There was nothing. Nothing but destruction in the far distance, and closer than that was just emptiness. There was nothing for them here. “I... don’t know, Sir. I’ll probably come up with something while we walk. Best bet is to see if we can locate any intact transport. Certainly would be more comfortable than trying to trek across fuck-knows-how-many klicks until we reach somewhere to hunker down and assess the situation properly. If we get lucky we might even be able to commandeer a dropship and get us the fuck out of dodge.”

She knew they were going to glass the planet. Hell, they were more than likely doing so already – but not in the area where they currently were. They would soon, though, and they had to get out of here, if they wanted to survive. She wasn’t so sure if she would be that bothered if they found themselves trapped. The rest of the team was gone, after all, and...

_Don’t go there._

Artemis rolled her shoulders, drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, before checking the current magazine for her MA37. Half-full; that would do for now. She had a few spare magazines in her armour, and when _those_ ran out, she was sure she could pick up fresh ammo from a UNSC building. Or if Carter had any in _his_ armour’s pouches, she could always pinch them from him. All he had was his Magnum, anyway. She didn’t know where his DMR had wound up, and she didn’t ask. It was more than likely buried somewhere in the mess they’d just left behind, and there was no point going back and making a half-assed attempt to look for it.

“Alright.” She lingered for a few moments longer, messing with her HUD, before setting off at a quick amble – a pace she was certain her teammate could keep up, despite his injured leg – her body slowly relaxing when she heard the music filter over her COM channel. “Let’s get moving.”

* * *

“You’re crazy!” Carter uttered in disbelief, shaking his head. “You’ll get us both killed. How do you know this is gonna work, anyway?”

“I’m not _crazy_ , Commander; I _know_ what I’m doing,” the Lieutenant rebuffed, “You just have to trust me.” Sure, it was a little on the _wild_ side of things, but it was a plan – a viable one – and one that she hoped would get them the hell out of here. They’d been wandering Asźod’s barren wastelands for far too long – in fact, she was more than certain that they’d gone in circles more than once – and the only things they’d managed to find were more ammunition, an M392 for Carter, some MREs, and some frag grenades.

Oh, and a small handful of Covenant, but what else was new on a planet the bastards were invading?

There was a squadron of Banshees, scouting out the lands below the cliff they stood on the precipice of, more than likely a patrol for the encampment of Covenant further up ahead. The Lieutenant’s plan was to run off the edge of the cliff, hijack the fighters in midair, strafe the rather small alien camp, take out the rest of the Banshees, and fly off to somewhere safe to regroup. It was playing it fast and loose, and there were a lot of things that could go wrong, but what other options did they have? Any UNSC vehicles they’d come across were either smouldering wrecks, or utterly destroyed husks. And they couldn’t keep walking – they’d both lost too much blood, and it was getting harder and harder for them to pay attention to their surroundings _and_ keep themselves going at the same time. It was their only choice.

“Alright, but if we get hurt or killed, I’m solely blaming you, since this was your idea.” Carter relented, stepping away from the lip of the cliff, and turning towards his companion.

Artemis shrugged. “Fine by me. See you on the other side.” She gave him a two-fingered salute – which was more than likely not allowed, but so fucking _what_ – and backed up to where she would begin her run. A few deep, steadying breaths to calm her nerves, and her eyes narrowed beneath her cracked blue visor. The running wasn’t so much the problem for her, but the timing. It had to be perfect, or she would crash to the ground so many metres below, and wind up dead – or, at the very least, badly injured, and those Covies would finish her off.

It was lucky that it wasn’t just her body that was fast – her mind was, too, and her reaction times were exemplary, even for a Spartan. She could do this, no problem.

She dug her heels into the dirt, and, legs pumping hard with every stride, sprinted to the edge of the cliff. At the very last second, right when her ears caught wind of the typical screaming of a Banshee’s engines, she _leaped_ , soaring towards the bulbous purple craft. She landed on the hood with a _thud_ , using her combat knife to brace herself – and thus leaving a scar in the hull – before swinging her legs around, punting the Sangheili pilot out in one swift move, sending him tumbling to the ground below. She then eased herself into the cockpit, hunching over the controls, and sent the flyer into an upwards spin to avoid its brethren before they saw her and opened fire.

The Spartan circled the craft around towards the cliff, and she watched through the viewscreen as her fellow ran closer and closer to the edge, at the last second leaping off, and straight onto the hull of another Banshee. This one began a roll to try and rid itself of its new cargo, having seen what had happened to its companion. However, Artemis guided her own Banshee towards the tail of the second, and scorched its wings with a burst of plasma, distracting it. Mere seconds later, and the flyer’s pilot was falling down to the ground below, and the Commander drifted the Banshee up alongside hers.

“You’re damn lucky, I’ll give you that.” he remarked over TEAMCOM.

“I guess so.” She’d already had good luck once today, and now was the second time. Here was hoping that it would continue to hold. “Let’s kick some Covie behind.”

“Roger that.”

The two Spartans fell silent and got to work, their flyers screaming over the heads of the aliens on the ground once they’d arrived at the edges of the encampment. The buggers had no time to prepare – they hadn’t seen what had taken place in the skies above, and didn’t seem to expect two of their own to turn on them. They were gunned down with hails of plasma and fuel rod bursts alike. Eventually, the only creatures left standing were a pair of Hunters, and both Banshees accelerated into a steep climb to avoid the searing blasts that would have likely damaged their flyers.

During that time, the other Banshees had arrived, harassing them with plasma fire, only to be knocked out of the sky thanks to the Spartans’ efforts. Only one of the purple craft remained, its engines smoking, hovering just out of reach. Waiting, and watching.

Artemis spun her craft into a roll, twisting it _around_ Carter’s Banshee in midair, raining hellfire onto the armoured behemoths below. She then directed her attention to the one enemy still in the air, and activated her craft’s boost function. The flyer screamed through the air, straight towards the other vehicle – which didn’t expect her to carry through with the head-on collision. Before the Banshees could smash into one another, the Sangheili pilot panicked and rolled his craft to one side, causing the Lieutenant’s craft to streak past. And that movement left the alien bastard open to a burst from the fuel rod cannon on Carter’s vehicle – smack into the enemy fighter.

It spun, the pilot struggling to regain control, before smashing to the ground right beside the Hunters, and all three were engulfed in a fiery explosion. None came out alive.

“Do you think it would be a smart idea to head back to what remains of SWORD Base, and hunker down there, or is it pointless since everything there is all but gone?” Carter questioned over TEAMCOM.

“Considering the state of things, I’d say-” Artemis stopped midsentence as the roaring of engines approached, as well as a red dot on the motion tracker. Whatever it was, it was _large_ , and it was headed their way, _fast_. “Hostile contact, twelve o’clock!”

The roar grew steadily closer, and she banked her Banshee sharply right, ducking the craft behind a band of trees. Carter followed suit. It wasn’t the best option, but it wasn’t like they were going to land – and besides, it was less likely for whatever was coming to notice them.

A few moments later, the familiar grey-green of a UNSC Pelican came into view, and the dropship swept past. It then slowed, lingering over the remains of the Covenant encampment, and the rear ramp lowered down. The muzzle and barrel of an SRS99 was all that could be seen at first. A crackle filled the Spartan’s ears; it sounded like someone was opening a link onto their COM frequency.

“-oon. Checking new frequency. Hello? If there are any friendly forces in need of assistance and using this channel, please, answer this hail.”

There was no making that Slavic burr.

Matched up with the sniper rifle, it was evidence enough that Jun was on board the Pelican. And he was searching for survivors.

“Sierra Bravo Three-One-Two, answering.” Artemis steered her Banshee back into view, making sure the vehicle was hovering in place. The damn things had a tendency to glide forwards unless you made them stay put, and it was a pain in the ass. She wondered how the Elites didn’t have the same issue, but then, it was _their_ tech. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”

“Six? That you?” Jun sighed explosively down the line. He sounded relieved.

“Roger; the two Banshees to your three o’clock? That’s Noble One and myself. Sure would be glad if you could help us get the hell out of dodge.” Artemis responded, slowly drifting her Banshee in full sight of the dropship. She couldn’t get much of a look into the interior, but sure enough, there was her teammate, crouched just at the top of the ramp, sniper rifle pointed towards the land beyond.

“Glad to know there’s a full party. Follow the Pelican, and we’ll make sure to keep any Covies off your tail for good. This bird’s got enough missiles to make mince meat of any Phantoms or Spirits that try to upset our little reunion.” The marksman chuckled, clearly pleased at his choice of words. The dropship then began to rise up, spinning slowly, and glided back along the path it had come from – hopefully, back to somewhere relatively _safe_.

_Full party? What does he mean by that?_

_No time to question it now_ she told herself silently, _let’s just keep moving._

The two purple flyers trailed after the Pelican, and they left the COM link open, lest they need to contact their teammate in a hurry.

Were they the last ones alive left on the planet?

Perhaps it was so.

* * *

Slowly, surely, the muted sounds of someone moving nearby dragged Artemis back to the land of the conscious.

_Wait... conscious? When did I...?_

A low groan escaped her, and she opened her eyes, looking around groggily. She slowly came to realize that she was in the medbay of a UNSC ship, the lights were dim, and the person nearby was –

“...Kat?” Well, okay, her voice was hoarse and it sounded like she’d been gargling sand.

 _Ugh_.

“Don’t move, Lieutenant. You’re in pretty bad shape.” Her fellow’s face appeared in her line of vision, expression collected in a frown borne of concern. “And I wouldn’t try speaking, either. When the docs were patching you up, you were slipping in and out of consciousness, and screaming at the top of your lungs. You probably damaged your throat a little – at the very least, you’ve made it sore, and you’ve deafened a small number of doctors and surgeons.”

 _Oh_.

Sluggishly, she managed to raise her hands, and with sloppy movements, managed to sign the word _where_ , as well as an accompanying question mark.

“ _Stalwart_ -class light frigate, the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_. She was in New Alexandria when it was attacked, and managed to slip to safety when you damaged one of the Covenant corvettes that was causing trouble for the civilian transports.” Kat informed her, moving away again. There was a shuffling of papers, followed by running water, and the Beta returned with a plastic cup in one hand. “Here.” She eased the Lieutenant into an upright position, before handing her the cup. “Drink it slowly, or you’ll choke.”

Rolling her eyes, Artemis accepted the drink, and took a couple of sips, before handing it back. She sighed in relief when the water soothed her stinging throat, and she allowed her eyes to fall closed. [How long have I been out?] she signed.

“A week, total. You almost died. Twice.” Kat heaved a sigh. “You’re _very_ lucky to be alive.” Movement, and the Lieutenant felt the bed dip as her fellow sat beside her. “I... never got to thank you for saving me.” She squeezed Artemis’ hand. “I owe you my life.”

“No...” Artemis rasped out, before swallowing and pressing on, “No. You’re my sister. You don’t owe me a damn thing. You never did. I wouldn’t be who I am today if I’d never met you. And besides... we Betas have to stick together.”

The Lieutenant Commander lowered her head, and pressed her forehead against the lone wolf’s. They were sisters, and they would do anything to make sure one another was kept safe. It was how it had always been, ever since they’d befriended one another back on Onyx. So many years ago, now... they’d changed so much. Deep down, however, they were still the same fiery, stubborn, brilliant young Spartans they’d always been. And their bond was as strong as ever.

She felt her teammate shift away, and she blinked her eyes open again, staring at the ceiling. Silence drifted between the pair for a good few minutes, before Artemis broke it.

“Are any of the others here? The Commander, he...” Yeah, okay, she was just exacerbating her scratched throat. Let it be said that she didn’t like things to get her down for very long.

“He’s fine, don’t worry,” Kat assured her, gesturing off somewhere to the lone wolf’s left. “He’s still out, should be due to wake up any time soon. He was cooked in his armour, and his left leg is broken. As for the others, well, let’s see.... Jun’s taking a nap in the rec room, Emile’s resting up in his quarters, and Jorge is staring out the viewport, despite the fact that we’re currently in Slipspace. The team’s all here. Everyone made it out alive. Who the fuck knows how, but...” She shrugged.

 _So_ that’s _what Jun meant. Everyone’s here, and everyone’s relatively okay. I didn’t lose my team. I managed to save Kat, and Carter too. And while we lost Reach, we still kicked a hell of a lot of Covie ass... now we’re some of the few that are left to defend Earth._

_Let’s hope they never find humanity’s homeworld._

* * *

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, September 3rd, 2552

Artemis was silently thankful that her body was still accustomed to Reach’s day and night cycle, because she didn’t want to lose track of time while they were travelling through Slipspace. _That_ was _never_ fun. It would feel like she was losing her mind, and given all that had transpired on Reach, that was the _last_ thing she needed.

It was the last thing any of the team needed, really.

They were all exhausted. Kat and Jun were the only ones uninjured, and were running themselves ragged looking after everyone else. Emile was the least injured, and he, too, was pitching in to help.

Carter wasn’t suffering so badly. Sure, his skin had been burnt in some places, and that left him with an irritating itch, but he put up with it. Mostly, it was his broken leg causing problems. After he had woken up, he had _insisted_ on walking around on crutches – much to Kat’s annoyance – but he couldn’t be up for too long, or his leg would begin to ache, and he would have to sit down.

Artemis was coping. Sure, her burnt and scarred abdomen ached and stung something fierce, but it was nothing she couldn’t handle. The leg she’d injured falling from the Covenant corvette sometimes gave her trouble, but that wasn’t much of an issue. More than anything else, it was the exhaustion that was getting to her. She could hardly sleep. All those dead bodies – civilian and UNSC alike – it was getting to her. So many lives lost... and the whole team had almost been among the dead, too. It was... something she still had to process.

Jorge, however, was struggling the most. After being spaced, he’d hurriedly put his helmet back on – but not after being in space and having no oxygen for a minute and a half. It hadn’t done _too_ much lasting damage, but he was slower on the uptake, and he had problems with his speech and reaction times. As a result, the old bear had withdrawn into himself somewhat, and while he wasn’t exactly shying away from the help, he was only _grudgingly_ accepting it.

The most important part of it all, though, was that they’d survived, and they were together. Things wouldn’t have been the same if they’d lost even _one_ member of the team, or they hadn’t been able to find one another again after being scattered across Eposz.

It was another thing that Artemis was thankful for, even if she hated to see her teammates in pain – and not just from physical wounds.

She was currently wandering along the halls of the frigate, heading back to her quarters after a light workout session in the gym. She was getting back up to speed, but she had to take it slowly or she would risk reinjuring her leg, or opening her stitches. And that wouldn’t have been fun.

Her senses, so finely tuned after years of training and years of combat – as well as the augmentations – soon picked up on the sound of harsh breathing, and muffled sobs. She paused, lingering, head cocked to one side to catch where it was coming from. Her features morphed into a frown, furrow between her eyebrows, lips downturned. It didn’t sound good. She had a feeling that whoever was upset didn’t want to let anyone else know.

That just wasn’t going to do.

A few minutes later, and she’d gathered that it was Carter, and when she looked to the door of his quarters, she saw that it had been left open. And the gap was just wide enough for her to fit through. She stepped in through the doorway, making sure it slid shut beside her, and her keen gaze quickly picked out the Commander on his bed, face hidden in his hands and shoulders twitching as he fought to keep silent.

“Hey.” His head snapped up at the word, soft as it was. His eyes were glassy, and he looked downright _miserable_ and exhausted. Her heart ached to see her fellow Spartan so low. “Are you alright?”

“Can’t sleep. Keep trying, but every damn time I close my eyes, I... see shit.” Carter _sounded_ as exhausted as he looked, too. His voice was gruffer than usual; rasping and sounding drained of emotion. He rubbed a hand over his face, and his head shook from side to side. “And I know it might sound really fucking pathetic but I guess it’s just really getting to me, this time.”

She understood how he felt; understood his frustration and slight embarrassment.

And she knew, too, what it felt like to become so exhausted that all she could do was cry until she fell asleep, or until someone came along and helped her. It had happened to her a small number of times during training. Less so as an adult, but it still plagued her from time to time. It was draining, mentally and emotionally.

So she seated herself on the bed beside him, wrapping an arm around his waist and drawing him against her side. A silent offer of comfort; a wordless _I’m here for you_.

“It’s not pathetic. It’s actually pretty valid, and I get where you’re coming from. It’s frustrating as hell, and it’s only worse when you wind up so exhausted that you just cry yourself to sleep. But you’re not alone.” She spoke softly, gently, hoping that he would comprehend what she was saying. Hoping that he would latch onto what she was giving him, and accept it. She knew some people could be stubborn about receiving help from others, not wanting to be seen as weak. It was particularly a problem when they were having a rough time emotionally.

“I’ve just... got too much shit going on in my head and I can’t concentrate for long enough to prioritize everything.” Carter admitted, rubbing at the bridge of his nose in frustration. He sighed wearily and sank into the embrace. “I can’t-” His voice cracked on the word, and he swallowed heavily, “I can’t take it anymore. And I don’t _want_ that, but it’s happening to me whether I like it or not, and I just... I don’t know what to do about it.”

He pressed his face into her shoulder, and Artemis felt the wetness of his tears soaking through the material of her t-shirt. He was _really_ exhausted, and she wished she could ease his burden, but she wasn’t sure _how_ , and she also wasn’t sure if he’d accept that. Instead, she chose to become a pillar of support, there for him when he needed help. Offering comfort in the form of a hug, or a kind word, or his favourite drink or something nice like that. Small gestures, just to show that she cared.

She hoped it would be enough.

With her free hand, she gently rubbed from the base of his skull, right down to the middle of his back, over and over, with slow, rhythmic motions. She’d often found that sort of thing to be soothing, and she anticipated that he would, too.

“Don’t stress about it,” she murmured, “Just let it out. You sound like you’ve been keeping everything bottled up for far too long, and it isn’t healthy.”

...Not that _she_ could talk, but when had she _ever_ put _herself_ first? Friends and family before self was her motto. It always had been, and it always would be. Nothing could cause her to change her mind on that.

And so Carter cried himself out, and Artemis silently held him, still rubbing him soothingly, until they both wound up fast asleep, still sitting upright, still pressed together.


	3. Don't Get Too Close; It's Dark Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: There is... so much angst in this chapter. Seriously. It's... not pretty stuff. Artemis had a _very_ rough time when she worked for ONI - beginning the moment they took her off Reach and transported her to Onyx - and now it's all coming back to haunt her.  
>  So it's dark.  
> Heavily implied death and abuse in this one; if you think it might upset you, _please_ scroll past it. I don't want anyone complaining that they weren't warned - this is your warning now.
> 
> Chapter title taken from _Demons_ by Imagine Dragons.
> 
> The characters of Jeanette-B315 and Minsun-B014 belong to my good friends pantheris (found on tumblr), and mythosborne (also found on tumblr) respectively. I don't own them at all; I just asked to borrow their girls for my story. Kudos to you babes! <3

UNSC _Stalwart Dawn’s_ gym, in Slipstream space, September 24th, 2552

“You observe anything interesting?” Carter folded his arms across his chest, joining Emile at the entranceway to the gym. He couldn’t sleep, and come down here for a workout, only to find that the Warrant Officer was watching their newest teammate do a workout of her own rather intensely.

“Nothin’, Sir. She’s sealed tighter than an airlock on a space station.” Emile didn’t even tear his gaze away as he continued to watch the Lieutenant attack a punching bag with a viciousness that had surprised even _him_. “It’s strange. One day she wants to be part of the team, and the next, she’s as cold as ice. I can’t work it out. I can see that she _longs_ to be included, to be one of us, but... then she just goes and holds herself distant.”

The Commander grunted his acknowledgement, and stood in silence as he observed the newest member of his team with interest.

Her coppery red hair had long since come out of its ponytail, and it was flying wildly about behind her as she whipped out a leg at the punching bag with a vicious side kick. Her movements showed aggression, and she was _fast_ , as well as fluid and graceful. It was strange – out of all the Spartans he’d seen training, and sparring, and fighting in actual combat, he’d _never_ seen any of them move the way the Lieutenant did.

She’d never picked up on the pair that were watching her, although perhaps that was a mixture of how into her workout she was, and the [rock music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lviYhyN_VKI) that was blasting from a speaker that sat on a bench nearby.

Emile cleared his throat quietly, which startled Carter out of his daze, before shifting his weight from foot to foot and stifling a yawn. “I’m beat, man. Gonna catch some shut-eye. Have fun trying to read anything on the El-tee. Tell me if you’ve noticed anything interesting.” He clapped the blue-eyed Spartan on the shoulder, before brushing past him and leaving the gym.

“Goodnight.” the bigger Spartan said quietly, and then his gaze focused on the newest member of his team. She still had not noticed, and so he took the opportunity to continue to study her in silence, pondering, trying to figure her out. He was not sure if she really _wanted_ to be part of the team or not. He had noted her attempts to fit in, during their assignment to Reach, and yet, it was like she had simply ceased trying. Either that, or perhaps she was holding herself distant for _another_ reason. Was it past trauma? There had been so much black ink on her file, and Kat had told him that all she had been able to find – and subsequently, all he had seen – were her combat records.

Everything else on Spartan-B312 was just too deeply encrypted, and too deeply buried.

He knew his XO was doing her best to dig deeper into the Lieutenant’s file, although he had yet to receive a progress report. He wondered if it would be easier, now; ONI would be busier than ever since Reach was gone, and he was quite certain that the UNSC would be moving all remaining forces back to the Sol system.

Perhaps soon they would know the full story behind—

Carter was snapped out of his train of thought when he noticed that the music had suddenly stopped, and said Lieutenant was staring at him with eyes flashing a silent warning, a towel thrown over one shoulder, and the speaker held loose in her hand. “You shouldn’t stare,” she said coldly, deliberately shoulder-checking him into the door frame which he stood near, “It’s _rude_.”

He kept himself from tracking her as she left, shaking his head instead, and deciding to start his own workout routine, now that he had finished observing his team member.

_Wonder what that was all about._

* * *

 

UNSC _Stalwart Dawn’s_ mess hall, in Slipstream space, September 26th, 2552

Carter was still pondering his observation of – and brief interaction with – Sierra B312, two days later, when he decided to approach Kat about the matter. He watched for a moment as she snagged an apple, seating herself onto one of the many benches in the mess hall, instead of sitting on the seats, before he asked his question. “What exactly is up with the Lieutenant’s behaviour? Emile and I have both noticed that one day she acts like she wants to be a team player, and the next, she’s giving us all the cold shoulder. You two were on the same team during training, and I know you’ve mentioned once or twice that you were – are – close... but I don’t understand what’s going on with her.” He crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing his jawline thoughtfully. “It’s not like she doesn’t want to be part of the team, because I can see that she does, but the way she acts...”

The Lieutenant Commander drew in a quiet breath, and it seemed like she was hesitant to voice her reply. She pursed her lips, shrugged a shoulder, and took another bite of her apple while she ruminated on the query. Finally, she answered, “She’s afraid.”

The bigger Spartan felt his eyebrows furrow into a frown of confusion. “Afraid?” he echoed. That seemed... unlikely. She never shied away from walking gun-first into a firefight that was already going sideways, and she had narrowly escaped death, back on Reach. So what exactly did she have to be afraid of?

“Of losing another family.” Kat clarified, waving her hand for dramatic effect. “She has... issues... with getting close to other people. I don’t know the full details – and not for lack of trying to ask her about it, because she never told me anything – but I have a feeling that ONI did some nasty things to her, during training. Artemis did _not_ like them, not one bit. Still doesn’t. I inquired about her time under their command, when we were stationed on Reach, but she just...” The cryptanalyst swung her head from side to side. “She closed up. Wouldn’t say a word, no matter how much I tried asking. I wasn’t the only one close to her during training, either. There were Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091 from Team Foxtrot, Jeanette-B315 from Team X-Ray, and Minsun-B014 from Team Whiskey. All of them tried to get through to her. All of them failed. After augmentations, she was taken from us – before the team was even officially disbanded – and she took it hard. She didn’t want to go.”

“So attachment which stems from trauma.” Carter surmised, seating himself on the bench across from hers when his leg began to ache. He could put weight on it for longer than he used to, but every now and then, it became too sore and he had to sit. “I’d... almost feel sorry for her,” he admitted, “But for the fact that she’s a Spartan, and she  should be able to deal with it.”

The Lieutenant Commander frowned at him. “You don’t know firsthand what happened to her. How being with ONI, receiving bonus training from them... how it _changed_ her. It wasn’t just that she closed herself off from us. She was... different. You could see it in her eyes, and the way she held herself. She just... wasn’t the same.” She grew solemn, a wistfulness in her azure eyes. “Sometimes I mourned for the younger sister I once had. It hurt me, to see what they’d done to her. She was so bright, so intelligent, so friendly and quick and eager to learn. And ONI took that from her. Can you _really_ blame Artemis for being standoffish?”

He couldn’t. He really couldn’t. “No.” he uttered, and gave a shake of his head. His heart ached, suddenly; felt heavy. Was it that he began to feel bad for the Lieutenant? He couldn’t really say. She was a mystery; an enigma. Something that the rest of Noble had to work out together – well, discounting Kat, because she knew Artemis the most. Then again, from what she’d said, it sounded like the cryptanalyst needed to _re_ -work out her fellow Beta.

“She’ll come around.” Kat gave his shoulder a squeeze, and slid to the ground. “Don’t stress about that, alright? I know you’ve already got enough on your plate as it is. Believe me when I say, Commander, that although Artemis has been through all different kinds of hell, she’ll be back. She’s a lot stronger than she lets on, and she doesn’t give up.”

Carter smiled wearily at her, although it didn’t quite match up to what he was feeling inside. “Thanks, Kat,” he said softly. He didn’t need to clarify what he meant; she understood he was thanking her for telling him about the newest member of his team. They’d known one another for long enough now that more often than not, what was said between them was actually half-unsaid, the meaning easily understood between them both.

“Of course, Brother.” There had been a time when Carter thought Kat pretty; a time when perhaps he felt there could have been a chance for something more. But then she’d gotten hurt, on their second mission as a team, and he had realized then and there that he loved her like a little sister. That was the way their relationship had been, and that was the way it was now. And he was just fine with that – he wouldn’t have it any other way.

* * *

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, September 29th, 2552

It had been routine, for him to check on each member of the team.

He wanted to make sure they were getting on alright; that they were coping with being cooped up in the frigate, which was beginning to feel rather cramped with six restless Spartans aboard. And yet none of them had taken the captain of the vessel up on his offer that they could use the available cryopods to make the journey go a lot faster.

They’d all chosen to stick it out, instead. Emile had joked that Jorge wouldn’t be able to _fit_ in a cryochamber, and the old bear had simply chosen not to try to prove that theory wrong. Jun hated not being able to see what was going on; he preferred watching the comings and goings of whatever environment he was in. Even if he couldn’t get up high. Kat muttered that her arm would likely freeze to the side of the pod, and Emile had flat out refused, citing something about “being claustrophobic”. Carter would have declared bullshit – he’d seen the Warrant Officer crawl into cramped spaces on more than one occasion – but he didn’t have the heart to call his subordinate out on it. The Lieutenant... well... she’d simply said nothing on the matter, other than she did not want to be stuck in a freezer. And so the Commander had not entered cryo himself, because his team had not, and he wanted to be there to keep an eye on them – particularly Emile, who got bored too easily, and became troublesome when he had nothing better to do.

They were coping admirably, despite the circumstances, and Carter had to grudgingly admit to himself that he admired them for that. Even _he_ was going stir-crazy, and he had often been quoted by his superiors to be cool and level-headed, especially compared to the other Spartans under his command – and even those past members, now long-deceased.

His checking on each member of the team had been something that he’d passed off as “simply patrolling”, but they all knew better. They always had. They knew it was just his awkward way of showing that he cared about them. And doubly so more than ever, after what had happened at Reach. It had shaken them all – even the normally-emotionless Emile snarked a lot less; whittled planks of wood or shaved pieces of metal a lot more. He was more withdrawn; more sullen.

This time, fortunately, it had all been positives. It was one of those rare good days – Emile was rather cheerfully (for him) pestering a Marine, Kat was working out in the training room, Jorge was reading a book, and Jun was perched atop a stack of crates, cleaning his sniper rifle for the umpteenth time.

Carter had yet to check on the Lieute- _Artemis_ – however. He had to remind himself that she’d started calling them by name now, and that it was only courtesy for them to do the same.

He had not expected to find her in her quarters, looking strangely desolate – perhaps distressed.

He hesitated a moment before knocking – the door was open – but rapped his knuckles against the doorframe after deciding that it was better not to startle her. He knew from experience that startled Spartans could make for angry Spartans. And that wasn’t what he wanted – he didn’t want to start the conversation off on the wrong foot.

Artemis scowled the moment she caught sight of him, and her lips peeled back from her teeth in a sneer. “What do you want?” Her voice was hard as stone, and her eyes, albeit wet, flashed a warning. Her body language was defensive, and overall, she was silently telling him, _back off now, before it’s too late and I tear your head off. Metaphorically._

Unfortunately, Carter didn’t _quite_ take the hint. It was not because he was blind to it – her emotions played out over her features like a movie – but because he was concerned for her. Something was wrong, and she was keeping it bottled up. And that wasn’t healthy. He knew from first-hand experience that it could wreck you; drag you down and crush you under its weight.

“I was just checking to make sure you were okay. And obviously you’re not, so.” He crossed his arms over his chest, an indicator that he would be staying for awhile. “What’s going on?”

“That’s none of your business. It’s certainly well above your pay grade, _Commander_.” The Lieutenant’s voice was now as cold as eyes, and she narrowed her eyes. “There’s a reason why my file is covered in so much black ink, and why Kat was only able to crack it part way. And that’s not something that you need to learn.” She tossed her head imperiously, and her expression showed that she was closing herself off; becoming distant. “If you’ll excuse me. I prefer to be left alone.”

Her words struck him as a wordless plea. Why else would she be so _sharp_ with him? On the surface, she was telling him that she was strong, and she could deal with it on her own. Deep down, however, she was silently crying out, begging for help.

It hurt him to see her that way. She was fierce, and fiery, but here, she just looked so _low_.

 “Okay. I won’t push you. But if you ever want to talk – I’m here.” Carter silently accepted that he would have to back down, and he made her an offer. It was the best that he could do. As much as he longed to help her, he just did not want to overstep his boundary. That would send her over the edge that she was teetering on, and he feared that the team would lose the potential of the Lieutenant’s friendship forever.

“I don’t care.” The metaphorical hackles were up, and if looks could kill, the Commander was sure that he would be dead. A growl highlighted her next words, “ _Get out_.”

If Artemis could slam the door, Carter felt fairly certain that she would have, after he turned and left. There was nothing better for him to do than respect her wishes, and keep his distance.

For now.

* * *

It had been a bad day.

First, Artemis had almost sunk deep into the recesses of her mind, where memories of ONI, and Dante, and the horrors of her past loomed. Then, Jun had poked his head into her quarters, and she’d lost the plot. And to make matters worse, just after she’d managed to get it all under control, _Carter_ had come poking his nose about into her quarters, to check up on her. Apparently.

_Making sure I’m okay. Uh-huh, sure. Just who are you trying to fool, Commander?_

_He cares about you._

_More lies. Nobody could care about a monster like me. And nobody can ever know what I have done. Not even Kat. The truth of that would hurt her. It’s better to remain distant._

_And yet you promised that you would support the Commander. You silently vowed to be there for him. You_ never _go back on your word. Or are you one to break your promises, just as happened to you for most of your life?_

“ _Stop it_!” The words burst out of her with such force, she felt even more drained than she already was. “Stop it, stop it, _stop it_... please... I don’t want this...” The voices in her head buzzed more loudly, and she pressed her hands against her ears, as though she could block them out. It did not work, of course, since they were _inside_ rather than _outside_ , but she felt as though she had to shut the rest of the world out, too. She sank to her knees on the floor, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, and a low moan of fear escaped her. “Please... make it _stop_...” Begging would not help either, but it was of some comfort to her, at least.

The door slid open and Artemis jerked, hands falling away from her head. Her eyes were wild, and she stared at Carter as though she didn’t know him. As a matter of fact, it was _herself_ whom she did not know; herself whom she was running away from metaphorically.

A low whine slipped past her lips, and she backed away, all but _cowering_ up against the side of her bed. “Don’t...” she warned shakily, “Don’t come near me...”

Why had he come back? Did he not heed her warning last time?

 _He cares about you_ that voice echoed again, and the next whine that escaped her was mixed with a low snarl. She hated it, and yet, it was inevitable. She was falling apart. There was nothing that she could do to stop it, or slow it down. She had held on for too long, and her mind had decided that enough was enough. She simply could not take it anymore.

“What’s going on?” Carter ignored her warning again, and seated himself on the floor, though she had to grudgingly respect the way he deliberately kept himself at a distance. “Why won’t you just talk to us, Artemis? Hell, we can all see that you want to be part of the team. We’re not blind.”

“You don’t _understand_!” Artemis slammed a fist into the wall beside her, denting it, a bitterness rising up in her chest, coiling around her like a snake; crushing, squeezing, making it harder to breathe. “None of you... none of you – you’re not a herald of death. Not like me. That was my purpose. That was what I was trained for. The enemy sees me, and they know they are going to die. Spartans... Noble Team... you all _save_. You all _protect_. And I know that you’ve fought Insurrectionists, but that’s... that’s _different_. None of you are really there to _kill_. But me... I – all I do is _kill, kill, kill_. Nothing but death wages in my mind. Nothing but death goes before me, and nothing but death is left in my wake.”

A miserable, choked-off sob, and she slammed her fist against the wall again, creating another dent beside the first one.

When she looked up, she was surprised to see that Carter had not recoiled, and he did not look repulsed or put off by her words. His expression was calm – almost to the point of being blank – and there was gentleness in his eyes. Oddly enough, when he spoke, his voice was soft, perhaps as if he were trying to calm her down. Maybe he was; she didn’t know.

“No, I don’t understand. But that’s okay. Everyone’s different.” He gave a shrug. “It’s not for me to try and grasp what it’s like in your head – and it’s the same with the rest of the team.” He drew in a breath, measuring his next words carefully. “Look, I don’t yet know the extent of what happened to Dante-B452, but I’m sorry that you had to...”

His voice faded out, and her ears rang. The buzzing voices in her head increased to a dull roar. She couldn’t see; couldn’t hear; couldn’t think; couldn’t _breathe_.

That name echoed in her mind, over and over. And the memories of that fateful day shoved their way to the forefront of her mind. The beseeching look in Dante’s eyes. The cold muzzle of the Magnum pushed up against her temple. The equally cold feel of the hard-sound rifle in her hands. The hissed warning, full of thinly-veiled poison.

_Do it, B312. Or you will suffer punishment over and over and over, until you are broken and useless, and then you will be terminated. You do not want to fail, do you?_

Her own voice, empty and hollow and dead: _I never fail._

The recoil of the weapon, followed by Dante slumping to the floor. Praise from her trainers as they lead her away. On the inside, she knew she had been screaming; on the outside, she was silent.

“ _I killed him_! I didn’t... I didn’t want to -...I didn’t want to kill him, I _swear_ , but I did it. I couldn’t... I couldn’t do anything else. If it wasn’t-... I’m _so sorry. I didn’t want to kill Dante, but I did_. I did, I did, I did...” On and on she rambled, an endless mantra, her eyes glazed, a wetness streaking down her cheeks. “I’m a _monster_ —” A pause, a shudder, “...and that’s what’s on your team. You have a _murderer_ on your team. I killed—”

A horrific noise resounded in her ears. She couldn’t tell if it was coming from _her_ or not. It sounded like someone was screaming in agony. Her throat felt raw – maybe she _was_ screaming. Everything was so blurred together that she didn’t know what was going on.

And then, suddenly, silence. It was as if someone had struck an off switch, because there was just... _nothing._ And it was not hyperbole this time.

Dimly, Artemis was aware of warmth around her; something solid pressed close. She opened her eyes, and all she could see was grey. Something firm yet gentle was gripping the side of her head; something else equally firm and gentle was holding her. Someone was calling her; the voice was an anchor, and she latched on; was pulled up to the surface.

She could breathe again.

“Carter?” she rasped in confusion, and she found that she was able to move her head, to pull back so that she could look into his face. Again, there was no revulsion – just that calm gentleness. And perhaps there was mournfulness in his eyes. It looked like it was directed at her.

“I’m sorry they made you do that.” He _really_ sounded apologetic. “Truly, I am. I know it might not mean much to you, but... That was an awful, awful thing they forced you to do.”

A gasping sob was the only thing she could force out in response, and through tear-blurred eyes, she could see that he was frowning out of concern. Her chest _ached_ , and her throat was rawer than ever, and yet... and yet somehow, she did not feel quite so _dirty_. So... cast out. And it was all because Carter had accepted her, instead of shunning her, like she’d expected him to. It was a great weight lifted off her shoulders, and she felt lighter, freer. Even if it wasn’t by much, it was enough to make her feel better. Every bit counted, after all.

“It’s not—... _fa-air_.” Her voice hiccupped on the last word, and she shivered, closed her eyes.

“Hey. Hey.” Carter drew her close once more, and his arms tightened around her in a secure embrace. It was a comfort; a relief. A safeguard against the terrors of her mind. “I know. I know it’s not.” He rested his chin atop her head. “I know it’s not.”


	4. I Think We're Just Getting Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: *coughs* So. Yeah. This chapter happened. Bit of canon-breaking here and there... but hey, what's not to say seven Spartans is better than one against the Covenant, amirite?  
> Also.... *whistles innocently* I'm sure that y'all can guess what happened "the night before". No context needed there, folks, heh heh...
> 
> Chapter title taken from the final level in _Halo: Combat Evolved_ , _The Maw_.

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, October 1st, 2552

Two nights.

Two nights, and a day in between, Artemis had been in her quarters.

And during that time, Carter had remained with her. He had nothing better to do, and he had offered to be there for her. She had gratefully – and perhaps somewhat grudgingly – accepted. Thankfully, she had not come to regret that decision.

The redhead sighed contently as she awoke, disentangling herself from her—

Well.

He was her teammate, and her commanding officer, but perhaps there was a different light she could view him in now. He was her friend. Perhaps she could even call him her confidante. She trusted him; could rely on him.

They were such stark opposites. He was cool, calm, level-headed. She was fiery, fierce, full of wrath. And yet they somehow got along with hardly a complication.

Artemis couldn’t help but think that he was rather handsome. Such a serious yet gentle face, with those electric blue eyes. A quick smile, reserved only for those he cared about the most. And while she would admire his muscular frame, that was something typical of _all_ Spartans, really. It was not particularly special. But these thoughts belonged to last night, and last night alone. It was better to think of other things; to leave those memories where they were.

She stretched her arms above her head, and distractedly pulled on her fatigues, staring out the viewport at the inky blackness of Slipspace. For a few moments, she could not find her shirt – but she shrugged when she espied Carter’s discarded t-shirt, and she slipped it on over her head. The scent, and the faint warmth – it was familiar, and comforting.

Warmth seeped into her bones and settled there, and she tipped her head forward so that her forehead was touching the glass. Another content sigh slipped past her lips, and she closed her eyes. Perhaps peace _could_ be hers, at last. After so many long, aching years of warring with her mind, so many sleepless nights, so many nightmares, so many dark memories... Had she even _earned_ such a foreign concept as peace? She did not know. She hoped so.

Perhaps...

Shuffling behind her snapped her out of her thoughts, and she knew that it was just Carter getting up and dressed. He then joined her at the window, and it was difficult not to smirk at the sight of his bare chest. She managed, thankfully. There was no need to leave thoughts from last night lingering for too long.

“You stole my shirt.” he grouched, tipping his head down to study her, before huffing in mock consternation.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want it back?” This time she really was unable to keep the smirk off her face. Teasing him was rather fun, and there was no way she would _not_ enjoy it.

One dark eyebrow arched. “Yes. _Please_.” It sounded like he was gritting out the words. She knew he was only playing along, and thus it was a struggle to keep from bursting out into laughter. As it was, she snorted, and her shoulders _twitched_.

Sliding a step back, she took the shirt off, wadded it up into a ball, and chucked it at Carter’s face. She had to muffle a snort into her hand when she caught sight of his completely unamused expression, revealed to her after he had put the t-shirt on himself. “Thanks,” he said dryly.

“Welcome!” she chirped, all too pleased with herself, as she bent down to scoop up her own top and yank it on over her head. She smirked at him again, and he shook his head, eyes dancing with amusement.

“You know that isn’t funny, right?”

“Uh-huh. And it is to me, _so_.” It felt nice to smile again. When was the last time she’d smiled? Too long, certainly. And then there was that stretch of seven years where she hadn’t smiled at _all_. It almost made her face ache, because her muscles were just unused to the expression. Artemis crossed her arms over her chest, radiating a smug air, and turned back to the window. There was a faint vibration beneath her feet, felt at the same time her eyes watched the inky blackness of Slipspace giving way to stars.

They’d dropped out of Slipstream space. But where _were_ they?

Artemis hadn’t even realized that she’d asked that aloud, until Carter gave voice to a response. “I’d say the Sol system, because we’ve just lost Reach. And we’re not retreating.”

Humanity’s homeworld. The cradle planet of every living human being, whether they’d been born there or not. The place where they would make a last stand, if the Covenant ever found them. And given what had just transpired at Reach, the chances of the alien hegemony finding Earth, well. She would guess and say that those chances had increased.

“Looks like we’ve still got a fight to finish.” The redhead exhaled a steadying breath, jabbing her teeth into her lower lip, and squaring up her shoulders. “We should gather the others, come up with a plan, and see where we’re headed next. Sir.” Cool, professional. She spun on her heel and met his gaze, watching his expression flicker from relaxed, to all-business.

The Commander nodded firmly, setting his jaw. “Agreed. And—”

“What happened last night stays between us? Yeah. One step ahead of you. Same goes with the fact that you caused me a panic attack. Between us only. Not even Kat needs to know that little detail. I’ll tell her – and the others – about Dante eventually, but nothing else.” Her words were assertive, and she continued to steadily look him in the eye. “I think that sounds like a fair deal. Don’t you?”

Carter’s voice was softer, when he conceded, “Yeah. Fair enough.” He looked at the twinkling stars through the viewport, one hand curling at his side. A way of stating that he had yet else to add to the conversation, but was considering how to go about saying it. He dipped his head, looked back at her, and released a quiet sigh. He then leaned in, and pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, before turning and walking towards the door.

The Lieutenant frowned, crinkling her eyebrows together. “What was that for?”

“Payback.” he answered with a smirk, broad shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

“ _You jackass!_ ” She heard him chuckling all the way down the hall.

* * *

“We’ve arrived... in the Sol system?” Jorge asked slowly, looking at the team gathered around the table. “What... what are our p-plans?” Even now, he struggled with his speech. It had been a long, slow road to recovery, since he’d suffered asphyxiation, but the other Spartans were supportive, and allowed him the time he needed to finish whatever he needed to say.

“Given that the Covenant have yet to find Earth, I’d imagine that we’ll be reassigned to protect the homeworld.” Carter leaned forwards, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “It’s only a matter of time, now, before they _do_ arrive here. And when that happens, we’ll be ready.”

Everyone noticed that he had said _when_ , rather than _if_.

Kat frowned, looking up from consulting a datapad, and dragged a hand down her face. “You really think they’re going to find Earth?”

“Given that Reach is gone, the chances of the Covies locating the Sol system have gone up exponentially.” Artemis chimed in from where she leaned against the wall, arms folded over her chest. “Reach was the Inner Colony closest to Earth. There’s no telling just when they’ll find us, but I have a very strong feeling that they _will_.”

“I’m just surprised they haven’t found it sooner.” Emile muttered darkly. When both Jun and Kat shot him a _look_ , he shrugged. “What? Those aliens ain’t stupid. And despite the Cole Protocol...” He spread his hands wide. “I ain’t saying that our plans aren’t solid, because they are – it’s what’s kept us safe for so many years, despite being on the back foot. But they caught us off-guard. And when humans are caught off-guard, it leaves us scrabbling to get back up. Given how hard and fast the Covies have been hitting us, we’ve never really had time to recover from the first blow they delivered. We’re being pushed further and further and back. Sooner or later they’re _gonna_ find Earth. And we’re only lucky enough to be there to defend it because we were lucky enough to survive the nightmare that was our deployment to Reach.”

Jorge rubbed his jawline thoughtfully. “He’s right. We never had... much of a chance. Look at how many... y-years it took to...get Harvest...back. And they glassed it, and settled them-...themselves there. That was... just the first colony.”

Jun scowled. He didn’t agree with that idea at all. It simply did not make sense to him – it made it sound as though humanity had lost right from the very _start_ of the Human-Covenant War. Which was completely untrue, and he made a point to say so. “That’s _bullshit_!” he exploded, pale blue eyes blazing. “You’re implying that humanity never had a single _chance_ to gain the upper hand. And yet we did. How many times did we push them back? How many times did we punish them for trying to annihilate us? You recall the number of people who gave their lives to hold the line – and not just the lives of our own kin.”

“Enough!” Carter slammed his palms down on the table so hard, everyone jumped. “Arguing is not conducive to this conversation, and it’s only causing problems that we don’t need right now. Both of you, stand down.” His eyes pierced daggers towards his subordinates.

“Yes Sir.” Jun sank back down into his chair, not even aware that he’d half risen out of it.

Emile stalled for a few moments, before crossing his arms over his chest, and mumbling a, “Sorry, boss. Won’t happen again.”

The Commander settled back, and continued tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “At this point, I’m not even sure who’s going to be in charge of us. Don’t know what happened to Colonel Holland. We might get transferred to the Navy, or someone else from the Army will be assigned to oversee us.”

“I sure as hell hope that nobody from _ONI_ is going to take command.” Artemis spoke through gritted  teeth, spitting out the word “ONI” with a trace of venom, like it left a bad taste in her mouth. “At the very least, if we could get someone from the Army again, I’d be content. Their rules are a little more... lenient in how we operate.”

“SPECWAR/Group Three is annihilated now.” Kat shrugged her shoulders. “Something tells me that we’ll be transferred to NAVSPECWAR in general.”

Carter nodded, and said firmly, “I agree with that assessment. More importantly, though, I need a status report. From each of you. How operational do you think – or _know_ – that you are?” He looked around at each member of his team, searching, scanning.

“Green, Sir.” Emile thumped his chest.

“I was never anything _but_ green.” Kat remarked with the faintest of smirks, her gaze trailing back down to her datapad once more.

“I am one hundred percent operational, Boss.” Jun linked his hands behind his head, and blew out a quiet breath.

Artemis growled, before giving her reply. “Green, and wholeheartedly willing to give the Covenant hell for what they did to Reach. _Sir_.”

Jorge remained silent for a good portion of time. It wasn’t that he understood – he did – but he was not so sure if he was ready for it. Finally, he answered, “I think I’m as green... as I’m... going to get, Sir. It’s still hard to....hard to...hard to talk, but I can fight. My arm-... armour can compen...compens- make up for... my speech difficulty.”

A relieved expression crossed the Commander’s features, and he leaned back in his chair. “Glad to hear it. Now get some rest. There’s only a matter of time before we dock or land, and we’re called to our new post, whatever – _wherever_ – that may be.”

* * *

New Mombasa, Kenya, Africa, Earth, Sol system, October 20th, 2552

“Fall back, fall back!”

“Covering fire!”

“Somebody, I need a medic over here!”

“Crap, there’s too many of them! We’ll never make it out of here alive.”

The local UNSC battlenet was filled with the chatter from Marines, scrambling to keep themselves from getting cornered by the Covenant. And Noble Team, riding in a pair of Warthogs that roared towards the Marines’ position, heard. They were there to extract and relieve the soldiers, before heading back to the _Stalwart Dawn_ , where it hung near the _Stalwart_ -class frigate _In Amber Clad_ , as a supporting vessel.

“Regroup at Rally Point Charlie. Spartans are inbound.” Carter informed the Marines coolly over the COM, and he listened for a response.

“This _is_ Rally Point Charlie, Spartan! They’ve overrun our position and we’re falling back to Rally Point Delta. Sure as hell hope you’re gonna get here quick, because this is getting messy, fast.” A weary-sounding Marine voiced her reply, which was rapidly followed by a chatter of gunfire.

The Warthogs screeched to a halt on an angle, frames bucking and bouncing as the Spartans leapt to the ground, and took up a defensive perimeter. Jorge and Emile remained manning the Vulcan chainguns; Jun disappeared to seek out a high vantage point, and the three on foot stood waiting for the Marines to arrive. It didn’t take long – there were seven UNSC soldiers rushing quickly towards their position. A grimy, bloodied woman stopped short, saluted, and her Marines took cover behind the ’Hogs, tending to one another’s wounds.

“Spartans. Staff Sergeant Cohen, reporting. Those Covies are giving chase, and they’re gonna be here any minute now. They really tore through our numbers, after shooting our Pelican out of the sky.”

Carter nodded to her, his gaze momentarily drifting towards the alleyway the Marines had just run down, before he looked back down at Cohen. He then spoke through his helmet’s external speakers, “Don’t worry, Sergeant. My Spartans will push them back. You just watch. In the meantime, take care of your men, and catch a breath.”

Cohen immediately looked relieved. “Yessir. And thankyou, Sir. You guys really are a sight for sore eyes.” She squeezed through the gap between the two Warthogs, and joined the rest of the Marines, crouching down on the ground beside the great wheel.

“You’ve got a cluster of Grunts, five Elites, a bunch of Jackals, and a pair of Hunters, incoming. Those Elites are looking sharp; they’re out for blood.” Jun reported over TEAMCOM. “I’ll take care of the big bastards, and soften up the Jackals. The rest are for you. Good hunting.”

“Roger that.” Carter made a few quick hand gestures, and shifted into a ready stance. Kat and Artemis slipped into the shadows on either side of the alleyway; the Lieutenant vanished beyond, while the cryptanalyst stood at the mouth of the alley.

“You reckon that all this fighting here has been too easy, Boss?” Emile remarked casually, panning the Vulcan back and forth, out of idleness, and an itch to start shooting. “Given what we know about the Covies, and what we experienced at Reach... doesn’t seem to me like there are a lot of aliens here. A lot of ’em seem, I dunno, confused or somethin’. Like their bosses jumped the gun, or forgot to tell ’em just _where_ they’d be fightin’.”

“Maybe they don’t know that this is our homeworld.” Jorge offered, looking towards the shadows. “They certainly knew that _Reach_ was important to us, but I think that’s a little bit more... blatantly obvious.” Compared to what he’d said at the start of the month, a couple of weeks ago, the old bear spoke as well as he used to, before he’d been spaced without his helmet. Sometimes when he was tired, he struggled, but otherwise... he was back to his old self.

“That’s just speculation, and you don’t— _Contact_! Closing fast. Here they come.” Kat stepped out of the shadows, elbowing an Elite in the mandibles, before throwing it to one side when it attempted to punch her visor.

“Now _this_ is what I’m talking about!” Emile spooled up the chaingun and opened fire, howling with glee as he gunned down the Elites that began to dart into the alley, bypassing Kat in favour for those that were ahead of them.

As soon as the last Covie was killed, and Jun had reported that it was all clear further ahead, Carter ordered Kat to join him in the Warthog Emile was in, and Jorge to stay back with the second Warthog, and the Marines. As soon as they were in place, he gunned it, and the vehicle shot down the alleyway, coming out into a plaza that was littered with bodies of humans and aliens alike. He saw the glint of a combat knife from somewhere in the shadows, and knew the Lieutenant was rooting out any hidden aliens, making sure that none were missed.

“Got another pair of Hunters, along with some high-ranking Elites, heading towards the plaza. I can cut down the split-lips, but those behemoths are gonna cause me a problem.” She stated over the COM, and as the Warthog halted in the mouth of another alley, Carter could see her steel and teal-armoured figure crouching down near the plaza’s third entry, a wide set of doors. Her DMR was maglocked to her back, and she was twirling her combat knife with impatience.

“We’ve got your six,” Kat leapt from the Warthog and switched her M6G for the MA5C she’d pilfered off a dead Corporal after her MA37 had run dry. She crept towards the gates and stood on the other side of it, the Lieutenant flashing her a thumbs up.

The gate burst open, and the Elites roared, moving around the two Hunters like water around stones, rushing out into the plaza. A Field Marshal clacked its mandibles and bellowed a challenge, before darting towards Carter, firing its Plasma Repeater as it ran. A pair of Ultras chortled in their native tongue, and they closed towards Kat. That left Emile to deal with the other Elites, and Artemis to fell the Hunters, instead. Not the way she’d planned it to go, but there was nothing else she could do, since the bastards had caught them by surprise.

She darted around one lumbering behemoth, and slid under the shield of the second as it swung around to try and smash her into the ground, flinging her combat knife into its exposed midsection with a quick flick of her wrist. She rose, whirled, drawing her Magnum sidearm, and peppered the unarmoured portion of its back with .50 caliber rounds. She reloaded, spun away from its bond brother as it once again tried to smash her with its shield, and continued firing until once again her Magnum ran out of rounds. The beast toppled to the ground, its back smoking, and the Spartan leapt to dodge the shield a third time, suppressing a shiver at the angered roar.

There was no time for her to reload the M6G; she clipped the gun to her thigh, and drew her Energy Sword, _Nightfall_ , the plasma glowing a bright blue. The Hunter roared again, its spines fanning in anger, and as it stomped towards her, she tucked into a roll off to one side, popping back up. All she had to do was close in, and slash the behemoth in the neck, back, or midsection, and that would injure it sufficiently enough for her to finish it off.

Unfortunately, this particular worm colony was _not_ intent on letting her get close. It turtled behind its shield, something that seemed to be made out of Covenant starship alloy, and its feet thudded on the ground as it circled around, trying to protect itself.

_Come on, you bastard, expose yourself..._

Artemis growled in frustration, and ran towards the Hunter with a burst of impressive speed. However, the second her boots hit the shield, the behemoth made an odd, deep warbling noise that sounded like a mimicry of a Sangheili’s laugh, and flipped the shield upwards, sending her flying. She tumbled through the air, back cracking into the side of a building. She groaned, stars swimming in her vision, the taste of copper filling her mouth.

Again, that creepy warbling sound, and the armoured behemoth thudded closer with a speed that belied its size. It paused for a moment, head glancing sideways, and blasted its cannon at the figure of a Spartan running up, before stomping closer. It raised its shield, and smashed it down onto the Lieutenant’s prone form, eliciting a cry of pain from between bloodied lips. The creature raised its shield, ready for another blow, only to be felled by the high-powered round of a sniper rifle whizzing through its neck. There was a second _crack_ , coming from high up above – her brain reminded her that this was Jun – just to make sure it was dead, and then silence.

The Lieutenant felt like she could not get up. Her body ached, and she felt like she had been pounded into mincemeat. She had been lucky that the Hunter hadn’t used the edge of its shield instead – she would have been dead, otherwise. She closed her eyes and lay there, ignoring the warnings blaring on her HUD, the bar that told her that her shields were dead, and blotting out the pain – at the least, _trying_ to.

She heard thudding footsteps, and opened her eyes again to see Kat sprinting towards her, momentarily suffused by golden light as her own shields recharged. It must have been her sister whom the Hunter had shot at, and a spike of anger shot through her.

_Damn you, dead bastard..._

Then there were _more_ footsteps, accompanied by the sounds of snarling hinge-heads, and the last thing she saw was the cryptanalyst standing above her, firing her MA5C on full auto.

And then, to her utter dismay and frustration, her entire world went black.

* * *

Medical facility aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, October 20th, 2552

“Is she going to be alright?”

Kat blinked, startled by Carter’s sudden presence. She looked up from where she had been maintaining watch over Artemis ever since they’d evacuated back to the _Stalwart Dawn_ a few hours ago, and hadn’t even been fully aware that the frigate had jumped into Slipspace.

“Too early to tell yet. That Hunter smashed her up pretty bad. And she was sporting a few other injuries from an earlier skirmish with some Elites.” She sighed wearily, and glanced back down at her sleeping sister-in-arms. The Lieutenant looked almost peaceful, although Kat knew that that was not so. Given just how hard the doctors had fought to get her stable and get her into surgery...

“Damn.” The Commander shook his head, and stepped into the room, coming to stand akimbo by the foot of the bed. “I’d hoped that it wouldn’t be that bad. No telling when we’re going to come out of Slipspace – the _Stalwart_ and the _In Amber Clad_ jumped in after that Covenant carrier. We’re trailing in its wake, and we all know how powerful those ships are. The fight’s not finished yet.”

“Nothing we can do except wait.” Kat frowned, sighed again, and her gaze drifted to stare at a spot on the wall at the opposite end of the room. She then looked at Carter, and canted her head to one side. “...You said we followed a carrier into Slipspace? Which one?”

She noticed that he suddenly looked grim.

“The one that was holding position by the space elevator. New Mombasa and Old Mombasa were all but destroyed.” he answered, and his voice was low. So many lives lost... so much destruction... Despite the Covenant not seemingly knowing that Earth was humanity’s homeworld, they sure as hell still wanted to annihilate _everyone_ on the planet, and reduce it to rubble and ashes.

“Shit.” Kat winced, feeling sympathy for those still living that had lost those close to them in the city. Civilian and UNSC alike had perished down there, and that space elevator would have been scattered halfway across the continent. They were not small constructions. She glanced back down at Artemis, and her shoulders sagged. She suddenly felt so tired, and yet she couldn’t even imagine how her sister felt. Her body must have been _aching_ after that Hunter slammed her with its shield.

A hand grasped her bicep, giving it a squeeze. “You should get some rest, Kat. You look drained. I know seeing Artemis go down would leave you feeling anxious, especially after she saved your life. But you need some rest. I can take over from here.”

The cryptanalyst met his gaze once more. “Are you sure? You have a lot on your plate—” she began to protest, but cut herself off when the bigger Spartan shook his head.

“Go on. I wouldn’t just tell you to leave your post if I wasn’t going to relieve you. I’ll let you know when she wakes up, if that helps.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Kat rubbed at her eyes and stood up, stretching the stiffness out of her muscles, before flashing him a grateful smile, ambling out of the room. She really hoped that Artemis would be in fighting shape soon. There was just no telling when they would drop out of Slipstream space, and she knew that her sister-in-arms would hate it when the rest of the team left without her. Spartans did not leave Spartans behind, even when one of them was badly injured and needed to stay behind to rest and recover.

The former lone wolf preferred the presence of her pack.


	5. Walk Softly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, more angst. Because I couldn't help myself. And at last, we know why Artemis was coined "the second hyper-lethal vector". And why her past is so damn _shady_. Also, Artemis gets injured. Again. Because I can.
> 
> And an appearance from everyone's favourite legendary green-armoured Spartan-II!!
> 
> Chapter title taken from the _Halo 5: Guardians_ Original Soundtrack, #2 of disc two, _Walk Softly_. I found it rather fitting, all things considered.
> 
> Enjoy!

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, November 1st, 2552

Something felt off, from the moment Artemis walked into the room.

For one thing, she hadn’t expected to be summoned to a meeting by the Commander, only to find the entire team already waiting there for her. And for seconds, there was definitely an atmosphere of tension. It was so thick, it was un-miss-able. Right away, warning bells went off, and the Lieutenant remained near the door, warily eyeing each of her teammates. None of them were giving anything away, which meant that either their poker faces were brilliant, or they didn’t know anything. She was betting on the latter, and simply because Emile’s poker face _sucked_ ; he just couldn’t keep secrets. And Kat’s expression always held little tells whenever she was keeping something from her fellow Beta Company Spartan.

So this was something else. Something they were all going to be told at once. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it was about _her_ , though, and not the battle that lay ahead of them. The way they looked at her...

She suppressed a shiver, and walked almost on tiptoes towards the couch, perching herself on the edge of it. Tense, taut, ready to flee. She wasn’t going to relax until she was able to read the room, and that was likely going to take a while. But that suited her just fine.

“This is only about Artemis—” _Ah-ha, I knew it_ — “...but given that it’s likely going to affect the rest of you in one way or another, we thought it best that you all hear it, too.” Carter crossed his arms over his chest, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Clearly he understood the gravity of the situation just as well as Kat did, for his expression was deadly serious, but there was also concern laced in his blue hues.

The cryptanalyst glanced up from consulting her datapad, and she looked troubled, although she was doing her best to conceal it. She tapped a finger on the side of the device, side, and switched it off, setting the pad to one side. “I have reason to believe...” she began, with a heavy sigh, “And this has come from strong evidence, although nobody can say for sure until we manage to get some kind of DNA test done. But somehow, given all that I’ve just read, I’m one hundred percent certain – and this is just my opinion – that what I am about to tell you all, is true.”

_Oh no..._

Emile leaned forward with either anticipation or impatience, and Artemis thought she saw concern in his eyes. She couldn’t tell. Everything began to feel... _off_. Askew. Out of order. A feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach, and she found that her fingers were curling into the material of the couch subconsciously. She made no effort to stop; it was a calming action; made her feel better.

“Why do I have the feeling that his has something to do with ONI?” Jorge rumbled, rubbing at his beard, and worrying like the older brother they all knew him to be. “My guess is that it’s all that black ink – you’ve managed to pick through what you couldn’t earlier.”

Kat inclined her head in a nod. “Unfortunately, you’re correct.” She looked distressed – whatever this was, it was perhaps worse than what they made Artemis do to Dante. Something cold clamped down onto Artemis’ chest like a vice, and she stared blankly at her sister-in-arms.

_I almost don’t want to hear this._

“Everything I’ve uncovered in her file... a lot of what’s written down points to one thing. The fact that Artemis – our Artemis – is a genetic copy of Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117. A clone. Created solely for the purpose of being a back up, so to speak, on the off-chance Spartan-117 were to ever be _actually_ killed in action. Or, even worse... a back up to kill him and then _replace_ him, should he so happen to turn against the UNSC.” The Lieutenant Commander couldn’t possibly look any sorrier than she did now. Her eyebrows were drawn together, lips downturned, concern flashed in her azure orbs, and there was definitely a note of anguish in her voice.

It seemed like the whole room exploded at once. The team’s reactions were sharp, immediate, and an assault to Artemis’ senses. She drowned under the weight of it all.

“That’s _crazy_!” Jun burst out, and his eyes were sharp; throwing daggers, spitting fire, the arrows in his tattoo seeming to add an air of danger to his anger.

Emile scowled darkly. “Nah, that ain’t true. Artemis? Artemis is unique. Hell, _all_ Spartans are different, but not our El-tee. She’s somethin’ special. There’s no way she’s some kind of carbon copy of another Spartan. That just ain’t possible.” There was bitterness, venom, defensiveness. He was _protective_ of his younger squadmate. He, the least emotional; the most cold, hard, unfeeling... And yet, deep down, his team were his _kin_. And here that truth was brought to light.

Jorge was stunned in a quiet, calm way, rubbing at his beard and looking perplexed. “A copy of my ol’ munkatárs? She’s not like John at all...” _Colleague_.

Even Carter was having a hard time processing what had been told to them all. And he was perhaps the most logical one out of the entire team. It was one of the reasons why he was their leader. Nonetheless, his expression was quiet, cool; he was almost unreadable save for the blatant concern that dripped and bled from his eyes. “Ah.” He nodded, eyebrows working together, and tapped his fingers on the hilt of the combat knife that rested in place at his thigh. A nervous habit; one completely atypical for his character. “I had a feeling...”

Kat turned to him, sharply. “You had _what_ —”

Artemis tuned them all out. Or rather, the buzzing in her ears did. It grew louder, insistent, drowning out everything around her. It felt like she was falling, or flying. Or was she swimming? She couldn’t tell. Something akin to a jolt of lightning ran down her spine, and she felt more widely awake than she had been this morning. Eerie, creeping hands... hairs on her arms and the back of her neck raised, goose bumps peppering tanned skin. Like static electricity, or the feeling of being watched. But no hostile being was there, and she wasn’t rubbing her feet against carpet.

 _Carpet. What does rubbing one’s feet against the carpet feel like? I don’t know. I can’t remember. It’s faint... it’s faded... maybe there’s something there... I don’t know why that analogy popped into my head. What’s_ wrong _with me?_

_I’m not real._

_Fake, fake, it’s all fake. Not real... none of this is real. It’s real but it’s not real._

_Whole damn life has been nothing but one big lie. Parents, ONI, Dante, ONI, Beta Company, Kurt.... Kurt, where is – No, he was never Kurt to us. He was always “The Lieutenant Commander”, or “Lieutenant Commander Ambrose”, or just “Ambrose”._

_...When did he stop being the Lieutenant Commander, and start being Kurt?_

_When did_ I _stop being real?_

_Where do I end? Where do I begin?_

Her pulse was pounding in her ears, and there was a roaring, fainter.

Voices. Yes, the roaring was voices. Her team. Her... family. _Were_ they her family? They were... they couldn’t have been anything _but_. And yet.... And yet she was not real. She was just a fake; a copy. She was not some legend; some hero; some great and fierce warrior. She was not _herself_.

A groaning. Creaking. Mechanical. _It’s mechanical stress_.

_What are you doing?_

Artemis blinked, came back to herself, glanced down.

_Lieutenant, what are you doing?_

Hand. Metal hand. _Kat’s_ prosthetic. She was holding Kat’s prosthetic hand in her own, squeezing so hard, so much fury, pure wrath.... The servos and gears were whining. She was exerting too much pressure, too much force.

She let go. Her hand dropped away, and she retracted it as if it had been burned.

Blink—

Voices came back to her, clearer. Her best friend was calling her name. Concern. Concerned, _why are you so concerned about me, nothing’s wrong, I’m fine, really Kit Kat_ —

“Artemis, what’s going on?”

_Why do you look like you’re about to cry? And Jorge... Jorge.... why do you look like you have seen a ghost? What happened? What’s going on?_

She hadn’t realized her lips were moving until words tumbled forth. At first, a garbled mess; a string of nonsense. But then, clarity: “No... Nothing. Nothing. I’m fine. I just - ... I need some _air_.” She gulped deep, rose so fast the couch she was perched on almost rocked back, turned. Ran, ran, always running, _she was always running, have to get out of here, can’t let them find me..._

_I won’t let them take me again!_

Even though the door could not slam, when it slid shut, the sound seemed to echo in the sudden, bursting silence that had overtaken her mind.

Artemis fled.

* * *

Her heart was pounding like she’d just run five miles, rather than five metres. Her breaths came in short, jagged gasps, and she sagged against the viewport. The glass was cool against her back, and she hoped it would soothe the fire within.

Everything was so _wrong_. Everything she’d ever known about her life was a complete _lie_. Artemis was not her own person. She was a fake; a copy; a _clone_.

She released a ragged sob, and one hand came up to cover her mouth.

 _You don’t even_ deserve _to be called a_ monster _any more. You’re not even real enough for_ that _. You’re not some scary creature that comes out of people’s closets to murder them in their sleep. You’re not a ghost, or a whisper, or a hero. You’re not even_ you. _You’re just a fake. That’s all you’ll ever be. Not real. Just existing. Meant to replace someone else._

A cold sharpness shot through her chest, and another ragged sob escaped her. The tears then began to stream down her cheeks, before she even had a thought to stop them.

She didn’t know what to think, what to feel, how to act, how to react. She didn’t know who to turn to. She didn’t know, didn’t know, didn’t—

The anguished sound that had been building up within her for _weeks_ now suddenly burst forth. A horrifying, haunting sound. A sound borne of misery; of agony; of loneliness; of anger. Something that had been kept inside her for so long that once released, left her exhausted. A howl of pain, long, guttural, and growling, echoed throughout the frigate’s halls.

Something that would grab the attention of _everyone_ in the vicinity, no doubt about it.

But Artemis didn’t care – couldn’t _bring herself_ to.

Thudding footsteps were what she heard next – aside from the echo, echo, echo of her scream – but she didn’t raise her head. Just tipped her head back against the viewscreen and closed her eyes, blocking everything out. Ignoring the tears rolling down her cheeks. Shutting out the ringing in her ears. Closing off the intrusive thoughts from her mind. She was hoping to sink into numbness; to embrace the void that was utter silence and stillness.

It didn’t work.

Hands were grabbing her, shaking her, and her eyelids flew open of their own accord. Her head rattled, and the sound returned like she’d shaken water out of her ears.

“-temis? _Artemis_. Talk to me.”

Kat was crying. Why was she crying? Why did her sister-in-arms look so damn _worried_? Was it something she’d said? Something she’d done? She didn’t know. She couldn’t tell – she was too _exhausted_ to hazard a guess. And she’d always been shit at reading people, even her best friend.

“I _can’t_.”

Was that her own voice? So small, so mournful. It didn’t _sound_ like her. But it wasn’t Kat’s accent – it was her own; that Hungarian lilt that always tinged her words whenever she was tired.

“Can’t talk, or don’t want to?” Kat still didn’t let go. She couldn’t grasp why. Was it... it felt like it was supposed to be a sensation meant to ground her. But it wasn’t working. She felt like she was on another plane of existence entirely. Kat was there, but she wasn’t. Artemis was on a warship, but she wasn’t.

“Don’t...” The Lieutenant wanted to say more, but her mouth closed against her will – _what will, you’re spineless_ – and her jaw quivered. Her sister seemed to understand, though, because she nodded and took a step back.

“I won’t push you to talk. But... I’m here for you, and you know that you’re one of us. You always will be, okay? _Nothing_ can change that.” The cryptanalyst eyed her for a few moments, before pulling her into a roughshod hug. Quick, tight, and perhaps reassuring. She then let go and shook her head sadly, before walking away.

Something inside her ached, ached, yearned.

Angrily, Artemis wiped the tears from her cheeks, and then turned to look out the viewport. All she could see was the inky blackness of Slipstream space, but somehow, that was as soothing to her as the stars were. She knew they’d be dropping into realspace soon, and yet, that notion didn’t concern her any longer. She wasn’t worried about the battle that lay ahead – she found herself uncaring as to where they would arrive, and why they’d jumped in the first place. For once in her life, she wasn’t focused on the mission, or anything pertaining to one.

Her mind had blanked on all of the important things. In fact her mind had blanked of _all_ things. Thoughts, memories, sensations, information... it was all simply blanked out. It wasn’t that she had forgotten, simply so much as she just _could not_ process anything anymore. At least, not for the time being. The weight of the truth that had just been unveiled to her was too much to bear. And so she had completely tapped out in response.

Her forehead came to rest against the cool glass, and she heaved a weary sigh. Broad shoulders slumped, and her eyelids flickered closed again.

Maybe it was best that she sit out of this one anyway. Not only was her mind far afield, but her body still ached faintly from the Hunter trying to smash her into a thousand little pieces. She’d be up to scratch in a fight, sure, but she didn’t want to pull a muscle and wind up freezing. Because if you froze out there, you were dead. No questions asked, no second chances. Dead.

Artemis worried her lower lip between her teeth as she ruminated on this, ignoring the coppery taste in her mouth as blood welled up from the wound she’d made.

_Wolves have sharp teeth, after all._

Ironic, wasn’t it?

She was so lost in thought, and whoever was approaching walked so quietly, that she didn’t notice them until she _felt_ the sensation of someone near. Someone watching her. Someone...—

She did not give them the chance to speak, and she did not give herself the chance to ask them why they were there. She was all action and reaction; twitchy; hair-trigger sensitive. The moment she was able to detect someone nearby, she pivoted on her heel and lashed out with a vicious right hook. A clear as day warning to _back off_.

However, the anger quickly cooled and gave way to guilt, the moment she saw who it was. Carter, staggering back in surprise, a hand clamped over his nose.

“I am _so sorry_ , I didn’t- ... Oh, shit, you’re not bleeding, are you? Please tell me you’re not bleeding-” Anxiety clawed at her throat, and she could feel how wide her eyes were.

“Guess I should have knocked, huh? Ow.” Carter stared at his hand, and gave it a shake, before holding it up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. His usually growly timbre sounded nasal, and yup, there was blood dribbling down his chin.

_You idiot. You didn’t even stop to check._

The shame increased twofold, and Artemis winced, shaking her head. “Really, I’m so sorry about that. My head’s not in a good place right now.”

The smirk he gave her was lopsided. “Relax, El-tee. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. My fault for not announcing my presence before I got here.”

The redhead averted her eyes. “No.... Although I thought you’d know by now that you can’t sneak up on me like that. I’m jumpy. I’ve always been looking over my shoulder, making sure I haven’t been seen by someone who shouldn’t have seen me. And sure, it’s been... oh, shoot, nearly half a year now, but that sort of thing doesn’t go away quickly.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, _I’m_ sorry, too.” When she lifted her gaze to meet his once more, she could see that he looked slightly guilty himself. Almost like a cadet who had been caught sneaking into the jungles of Onyx one too many times, and was now getting punished for it.

 _Don’t make that face at me, damn it_.

“You shouldn’t be.” Artemis countered, her eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

“I am.” His eyes challenged her to _make him_ back down. And if anything, the blood that still streamed down his nose, covered his hand, and dripped down his lips and chin just made him look all the fiercer about it.

The Lieutenant pivoted on her heel, blowing out an explosive sigh of frustration. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” There was irritation in her voice, but underneath that, there was perhaps a touch of fondness, as well. The team was growing on her, whether she liked it or not.

Carter laughed, but the sound didn’t contain much mirth. “Believe me, I’ve heard that line before.”

“I’ll bet you have.” Artemis said under her breath. She spun to face him, arms akimbo, and made a noise of weariness, giving a quick shake of her head. Louder, she added, “I should at least find something for your nose. You know, because it’s my fault you’re bleeding.”

The smirk he gave her suggested he’d heard her first comment anyway. “I can live with that.”

“Funny.” She reached out and punched him in the stomach, but growled in frustration, shaking out her hand. “You _asshole_! You tightened your abs, didn’t you?”

“No?” He looked innocent, but there was a twinkle in his eye that gave him away. “What makes you think that?”

Something about the way he was acting grated on her. She hated his stubbornness. She hated the gleam in his eyes, and the smirk in his mouth. She hated the way their teasing one another caused their friendship to strengthen. She hated the way he knew how to cool her fiery temper. She hated the way he was so _gentle_ , and yet didn’t treat her like she was walking on eggshells.

Sure, Kat could act the same way, sometimes, but then, that was _Kat_. Someone she’d known for much longer; someone who was her best friend. But for some reason, when Carter acted that way, it just... _irritated_ her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it did. She knew it.

“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that.” she said, instead, and rolled her eyes. “Come on.” She trotted down the hallway, hearing him fall into step behind her. She kept a sharp gaze out for any medkits hooked to the wall – something suitable to contain the nose bleeding would be in there. She didn’t want to go all the way down to the infirmary, after all. About twenty metres along, she stopped and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of a medkit, opening it up and rummaging around.

“Stay still, ’kay?” Artemis warned, side-eyeing Carter for a moment as she approached him with a gauze pad in hand. Aside from dropping his hand away from his face, he was as solid as a rock, and she silently appreciated that. It made it a lot easier for her to stuff the pad up his nose, before stepping back to admire her handiwork. It would do. After all, every Spartan had undertaken basic medical training – including on-the-field patch-ups – and while she’d never actually had to utilize it before, at least she knew what she was doing.

“Your hands are shaking.” the Commander said quietly, stepping into her peripheral, and the Lieutenant glanced down at her hands.

_What? ....Oh. Why is that...?_

“I...” She suddenly found herself having to hold her chin up, to keep the tears that now welled in her eyes from overflowing, and spilling down her cheeks. “I’m fine.” Except she wasn’t, because her voice wobbled, and even to her own ears, she really didn’t sound like she was okay.

His eyes softened. “Whoa, hey, hey. C’mere, El-tee.” His voice was a low murmur; gentle, concerned. “C’mere.” He stepped closer to her, and his arms came around her in an embrace.

And Artemis went with it; not resisting, and not backing away. She did not know why she was suddenly losing it. She could have sworn she’d had it together not ten minutes before. Maybe she was just overtired; she didn’t really know. She just sagged against Carter’s chest, crying silently into his tee-shirt, while he held her close and stroked her hair.

* * *

On the surface of another Halo installation, unknown system, November 2nd, 2552

“So many damn Elites.” Emile growled over TEAMCOM.

“Maybe they’re guarding something.” Jun remarked, and his sentence was punctuated by a sharp _crack_ from his SRS99. “We followed that carrier here. Maybe whoever’s commanding that thing came down to have a look.”

“That’s an awful lot of _maybes_ , you know.” Kat riposted, and she snorted with disdain. “Also, can you shut the hell up? The rest of us are trying to sneak around here.”

The team were scattered across the terrain, and most of them weren’t able to view one another. Artemis was the farthest away, stalking one of the strangely-armoured and highly skilled hinge-heads, her combat knife in hand and waiting. She didn’t add anything to the conversation; doing so would have given her position away, just as Kat was complaining about. All she had to do was get close enough, and she could slit its throat and find her next target.

But this bastard just would not stop _moving_. And it was proving difficult for her to stay quiet, because she didn’t know the terrain. It was so alien, but almost _human_ , in a way, too. The stone structures and pathways attested to that. Whoever had built this place must have been more alike to the humans than originally thought; at the very least, they were _humanoid_ in nature.

Placing her booted feet down with care, she picked her way around the edge of a cliff, and followed the Elite towards a stone pathway, suspended in the air above a lake. She was so close she could hear the split-lip murmuring to itself, and she was _just_ closing in for the strike, when a Carbine shot rang out nearby. Far too close for comfort, and the Jackal sniper squawked in frustration when it didn’t hit her, the plasma splashing onto the stone nearby. And that garnered the saurian alien’s attention.

_Blast it!_

Roaring, the squid-head drew its Energy Sword and activating it, and with its mandibles flared wide with anger and surprise, the alien _charged_. The Spartan had been expecting it, and she twisted to one side, only to realize too late that the Elite had feinted on purpose, and the Energy Sword was plunging into her gut.

Artemis gritted her teeth against a wave of pain, and stepped _into_ the attack, her combat knife sinking into the soft, exposed flesh of the hinge-head’s throat. The alien gurgled as it died, purple ichor coating the hilt of the knife, as well as her gauntlet. Its hand released the Energy Sword, and the device deactivated, the weapon clattering to the ground. The Spartan yanked her knife free, and ducked as another shot from the Jackal whizzed past.

A wave of dizziness overtook her, and she shifted to find better cover as the avian alien peppered the area with plasma fire from its Carbine. However, the fire was cut off, and the Jackal’s life was ended with a rasp, as a hidden figure took it out from behind.

She stared blankly at the neat hole in her armour, the metal red hot and curling at the edges. Her techsuit was ripped, and revealed the cauterized wound. It was worse than she’d thought, because as the Energy Sword deactivated, the blade had slid _downwards_ , creating a longer, jagged slice.

_Aw, nuts..._

She sank to a knee, and was overtaken by a fresh wave of dizziness as her suit compensated for the hole by filling it with Biofoam, although it would not have penetrated as deeply as if someone had simply used a handheld canister instead. She had to get out of here; to find proper medical attention, but she was so _exhausted_ , and if she was being honest, her head was still not on straight. Not after yesterday’s revelation, and subsequent meltdown. She shouldn’t have entered the field, but she didn’t want to leave Noble Team short a member, and she’d insisted that she would be fine.

Artemis was, unfortunately, wrong.

A towering figure – although certainly not as powerfully-built as Jorge – clad in olive green MJOLNIR armour with a golden visor, approached with calm, purposeful strides. The helmet angled down towards her, and a hand reached out, helping her get to her feet. He began to lead her away from the bridge, and towards a wider, more open area – likely better for a Pelican pick up. “ _In Amber Clad_ , this is Sierra One-One-Seven. I’m with wounded; need a Pelican evac ASAP. Coordinates...”

She tuned out his voice; instead, she stared at the way he moved. It was so achingly _familiar_ , and the tag... the tag belonged to _the_ Spartan. Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117. Her _brother_.

A jolt ran through her veins at that realization, and she never took her eyes off his armoured form. She didn’t even take any notice when a Pelican landed nearby, and the Spartan began to usher her up the ramp, handing her over to the care of a team of medics, who were ready and waiting. She just stared, stared, stared. He looked so _familiar_ , and yet surely she had never seen him before. She only knew who he was because _every_ Spartan knew of his feats, and because her file had mentioned him repeatedly.

_Why do I feel like I’ve met him another lifetime ago?_

Her lips were moving, but sound barely came out. She was dimly aware of a needle being jabbed into her neck, and she was sinking to her knees, dropping to the floor, her eyes were falling closed. Sedative... meant to keep her stable... but she wasn’t _bleeding_ , was she? Energy Swords cauterized wounds... maybe it was worse than had been seen at first glance... maybe it ran deeper and caused more damage... maybe it had torn into a muscle...

“John...” she slurred, and her Hungarian lilt was stronger again, “....stay with me. Please don’t go. Stay with me, John...”


	6. Walk Softly Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi yes hello I live. Sorry it's been so damn long.... my brain just did _not_ want to kick back into gear with this fic at _all_! Feel kinda bad for leaving it there to drift....  
>  But! New year, new chapter!
> 
> Featuring snooping John, and maybe Artemis is having a Feelings? What's going on with her mind?
> 
> P.S. I'm sorry if it seems rather short, but it was a filler chapter. And we all know that those are just as important as the more lengthy ones!

Who was this Spartan, and why did she know his name?

Unease settled into the Master Chief’s gut, and he kept his helmet tipped downwards, so that it was easier for him to quietly observe the wounded Spartan he’d picked up from the battlefield.

Her armour was so confusing. It looked like his Mark Five had, but there were notable differences. And the colour scheme... why was she grey and teal? It didn’t make any sense. It was as bad as the brightly-coloured armour sets the Covenant wore. On top of that, her visor was tinted _blue_.

Where had she come from? The last he’d checked, he was the only Spartan on this installation. Unless another UNSC ship had been towed along in the assault carrier’s wake. He _did_ vaguely recall seeing another frigate hanging in the sky near the _In Amber Clad_. Maybe that vessel had pursued the Prophet of Regret as well. Or they were there to provide back up to Commander Keyes.

 _Too many unknowns_.

And he immensely disliked unknowns.

« **Something bothering you, Chief?** » Cortana asked over their private COM.

« _This Spartan. I don’t know where she came from, or how she knows my name. And her armour is not standard MJOLNIR. It looks so different_.»

« **I’ll see what I can find out. It might take a few.** » The cool presence in his mind retreated, and the Spartan eyed the medics warily for a moment. He could tell they _kind of_ wanted more space, but they were too intimidated by him to directly ask him. And some ancient, unknown instinct rose up within him, telling him to stay close to this injured stranger.

The one thing that concerned him the most was how she knew his _name_. That was something that only his fellow Spartans, Doctor Halsey, and Chief Mendez knew of. Most of his Spartans were dead. Doctor Halsey was... well, he wasn’t sure _where_ she’d gone. And Chief Mendez was _supposedly_ training a new batch of Spartan-IIs, but that assignment had been from _years_ back. John had never seen any new ilk like him since then.

This stranger certainly was not one of them. It was in her mannerisms. If Chief Mendez had her trained as a Spartan-II, she would have had a much different bearing. She was definitely a Spartan, no mistaking that. No denying that proud bearing. But there were _differences_ , marked ones.

He noted then, that the medics had finished prepping the Spartan, and had backed away, talking to themselves and consulting their datapads. His gaze dropped towards the injured woman, and carefully, he peeled her helmet off, placing it on the floor beside her. He took a few moments to simply observe, taking in her features, seeing what he could see.

She was very young, that much John could tell in the first glance. A lot younger than him – perhaps half his age, although at this point, he couldn’t really remember exactly _how_ old he was. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that she was in her early twenties, or perhaps even late teens. And that made him wonder just how young she’d been sent onto the battlefield. He and his comrades were fighting at fifteen, but she certainly did not have the air of only four or so years’ worth of battle experience about her. She seemed... wiser, somehow. More like she’d been fighting for at _least_ six years, if not seven or even eight.

The next thing he noticed, was that she was inexplicably, _achingly_ familiar. The oval shape of her face, the freckles smattered across her nose and cheeks, even the set of her jaw. It all seemed so _familiar_. He couldn’t place it just yet, but there was _something_ about her that seemed awfully recognizable. Maybe he’d seen her somewhere before, and he just could not recall _where_. That idea seemed the most logical.

“Who are you?” The words were no more than a breath ghosted out of his mouth, but they would echo in his mind for days afterward, as would the image of her face.

Of course, there was no answer.

John leaned away and up, and gave a quick shake of his head. Right after that, the familiar, icy feeling of Cortana slid back into his mind, signalling her return. He kept his hands busy while he spoke to her, checking his assault rifle, and making sure he had enough ammunition for it.

«Did you find anything?»

« **She’s part of a team of Spartans attached to another frigate, the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_. It is, as its name suggests, a _Stalwart-_ class light frigate; I’d say the lead ship of the class, too. They followed us here from New Mombasa. I can’t work out where they were before that. They’ve made too many random jumps, and cleared their NAV data quite recently. Which is curious – it begs the question—**»

«Cortana,» John intervened gently, sliding home a new magazine for his AR, and maglocking it into place on his back once more. «Focus. The Spartans. Who are they? And more importantly, who is _she_?» He nodded to the wounded soldier laying on the floor in front of him.

« **Right, sorry.** » Even when speaking through their neural connection, Cortana still managed to sound apologetic. « **They’re called Noble Team, apparently falling under NAVSPECWEP’s SPECWAR/Group Three. I’ve never heard of them before, and I’ve heard nothing about them being active currently. My best guess is that they were killed at wherever this team was last stationed. Sorry, rambling. They’ve been operating for quite a number of years, and there have been different incarnations of the team. This latest line-up consists of something called... Spartan-IIIs? That can’t be right. And one Spartan-II, Chief Warrant Officer Jorge-052.** »

The Master Chief felt a spike of familiarity run through him, as he learned the name of the lone Spartan-II on this Noble Team. _Jorge_. How long had it been since he’d seen the mountain of a man? Much, _much_ longer than he’d last seen Blue Team, or Red Team. Perhaps around the last time he’d seen Kurt-051. Either way, he was glad to know that another one of his brothers-in-arms was alive, and still fighting the good fight. After Reach, he’d almost believed that he’d been the last Spartan left. But he’d found others, and while most of those had perished... here was another.

Cortana gently broke into his train of thought, continuing to state what she’d discovered about the frigate that had followed them from Earth, and the team of Spartans who apparently called it home. « **The Spartan here... She is Lieutenant Artemis-B312. I attempted to dig around in UNSC databases for any information on her, but there’s not a lot. I can’t find much on that team at all, but the Lieutenant in particular eludes me. When we get back to Earth, I’ll do some more digging there. What strikes my curiosity about what I _do_ know about B312, the reports about her are rather intriguing. A small number of Army Troopers and ODSTs refer to her as the “Hero of New Alexandria”. Which is rather interesting, as New Alexandria was a crown jewel city on the planet of Reach. Makes me wonder if perhaps this Noble Team – or at least, Spartan B312 – were stationed on Reach. That _might_ explain the lack of Nav data aboard the _Stalwart Dawn_.** »

John filed the information away for later, and tipped his helmet downwards so that he could study the wounded Spartan once more. That nagging feeling of familiarity didn’t go away, and he wondered why her name hadn’t rung any bells. Maybe he _had_ seen her before, but he hadn’t had the chance to get her name and Spartan tag. It made the most sense. After all, he’d encountered soldiers of all kinds, commanding many different men and women, and he hadn’t always had the chance to catch their names. While he doubted that she or any of her team had ever served under him – save for Jorge – he _did_ wonder if he’d met her before, a long time ago.

«Cortana... thanks.»

« **It’s what I’m here for, Chief.** » Despite the brushing off of his thanks, he could still hear the warmth in her voice, and the corners of his lips twitched into something that could have once been the semblance of a smile.

* * *

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, November 3rd, 2552

“You shouldn’t be out of bed, Lieutenant! You could tear your stitches.”

“To hell with that! I’m not staying put and you can’t make me. Don’t force my hand.”

“Is that a threat? Just what would you do, Spartan?”

“Pull rank. You’re a non-com and I’m an officer. I can tell you what to do. And if you still don’t listen, then I’ll have to call in the big guns.”

“Alright, alright, alright, _fine_. Just take it easy with your injuries.”

“Easy enough.”

When Kat rounded the corner to the medical bay, she had been greeted with the sounds of two people yelling at one another. One of them was _definitely_ Artemis, and the New Harmonian smirked at that oh-so-familiar stubborn streak of her sister’s rearing its head. The other one must have been a doctor or a nurse, trying to get her to go back to bed. Artemis was right – the medical personnel couldn’t keep her there if they tried. Unless they administered sedatives, but even _then_ , the lone wolf would have put up a hell of a fight.

The Lieutenant came into view, looking entirely miffed in a set of standard Spartan fatigues, and the cryptanalyst stood with arms akimbo, amused. “I see you don’t want to stay in the medbay.” she said in lieu of greeting.

“Ugh.” Artemis slapped a palm to her forehead, rolling her eyes. “Don’t tell me you like it in there. The stench of cleanliness and the _chemicals_ used to make it that way... the doctors and nurses... the beds that are clearly _not_ built for Spartans....” She stifled a yawn, and rolled her eyes again. “I can practically hear my bed calling at this point in time. But first...” She took a step forward and wrapped her arms around Kat, a weary, whuffling sigh escaping her as she leaned into her sister-in-arms. “It’s been so long since we’ve done this. And we’ve been on Noble together for, what, four months? That entire time we’ve never really had the chance.”

“I missed you too, sister.” The cryptanalyst patted the lone wolf on the back as she returned the embrace. “And you know, you have a lot to fill me in on. Just....whenever you’re ready, okay? Don’t stress about telling me as soon as possible. I know ONI must have done a lot to you, because you’ve changed a lot, and then some.”

“That’s not even the half of it.” Artemis said wryly, and gave a quick shake of her head. Warmth, sisterly love, words of advice. That was what she’d been missing for so long now. Well... part of it. The rest was something that she needed to figure out on her own. Something that she _really_ needed to take her time with. Feelings were... complicated at best. And it was not always easy to navigate them, especially not alone.

Maybe someday, she would tell Kat the stirrings she had whenever she looked at—

_Yeah, just quit while you’re ahead. Don’t go down that road. You don’t want to. Not those sorts of feelings. You can’t do that to anyone else. Not after what happened to Dante._

“...But, uh, thanks for giving me space to think about how I’m going to tell you. It’s.... not pretty.” she said, instead, before drawing away, giving her older “sister” a quick smile. “Plus there’s a lot of baggage to be unpacked, and it would be better to talk about it when we have the _time_ to. You know. Middle of the War and all that.”

“I understand. In the meantime.... Come on. I know just the place where you can sleep comfortably. And I think the rest of the team will appreciate this, too....” Kat gently guided Artemis down the hallway, talking quietly to her as she went.

* * *

A Spartan cuddle pile. As Kat had so casually termed it.

Right.

Artemis wasn’t sure how this was going to help her get to sleep better at _all_. She’d been isolated for so long that she’d almost forgotten what it was like to bunk with hundreds of other kids. She was sure the rest of the team would appreciate the gesture. They were used to it, and they’d probably missed bunking together in one big group.

But for her, it was strange. So strange, it was almost alien. And yet, at the same time, it was so utterly _familiar_ her chest _ached_ with longing. Longing to go back to the past. Longing to be part of the team. Longing to—

_Damn it._

That was the _second time today_ that she’d thought about her possible feelings for him. It was starting to get out of hand. She couldn’t care for anyone else that way. Not after what ONI had made her do. Not with their threats hanging over her head. Not with the cold, harsh lesson: _do not allow yourself to get close to_ anyone _. Don’t trust anyone except yourself, and except us._

And yet, it was too late.... too late... too late for any of that.

Noble Team were her brothers and sister. They were her pack. She trusted them with her life. And she most definitely did _not_ trust ONI. Not one single iota. Not after what they’d done to her. Not after what they’d made her do.

A heavy breath tumbled past the lone wolf’s lips, and she shuffled to get comfortable next to Kat and Jorge. Her fellow Reach native was big, and warm... Emile had joked somewhat sarcastically that there was more of him to hug, and Artemis had to admit, she was inclined to agree. It was nice to be close to Jorge; he was the second person to accept her on the team after Kat, and he was her first _new_ friend. She looked up to him like an older brother. Although things had been slightly rough after his sacrifice, and his rather surprising survival, they’d patched things up quickly enough. She fondly called him “brother bear”, and he called her “little wolf”. It was....nice.

 _Hmmmmh..... it’s really warm now.... nice and cozy. I wouldn’t need a blanket even if it were cold in this ship.... maybe I_ will _be able to get to sleep. Kat does know me better than I know my own self, sometimes. She wouldn’t have suggested the idea if she wasn’t sure it would work._

_Crafty.... sis...._

* * *

Artemis rolled over and stirred awake...

...Only to find that her face was pressed into Carter’s back, and one arm was draped across his flank.

 _What the fu_ —

Carefully, with creeping motions, she drew back and sat upright, hugging her knees to her chest, and staring at his still sleeping form. When the hell had _that_ happened? Last she’d checked, Jorge had had an arm draped across her, and she was half-tangled up with Kat. Somehow, subconsciously, she’d moved over and wound up pressed against the Commander.

 _What is_ wrong _with me?_

Embarrassment flared up and heated her cheeks, and she quickly turned herself away and lay down once more, burying her face against Jorge’s chest. Certainly better than with her nose pressed up against Carter’s back, that was for sure. His broad, warm back, strong muscles relaxed under his t-shirt that was _probably_ a little bit tight-fitting...

 _Get a hold of yourself! This isn’t like you. You might’ve spent one night with him, but that was.... that was... your mind_ needed _that. This isn’t that. This is foolishness. This is you allowing yourself to_ slip _. You shouldn’t get drawn in like that. Keep your distance._

__Stay away from him.... You don’t want a repeat.... You’re never going back there.... never going back.... never going back... never going back.... they won’t take you again-!_ _


	7. Shadows Play On Idle Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So, this chapter might have taken just over two months to complete. I have been... very distracted by other WIPs and AUs as of late. But it's here at last! Enjoy :D
> 
> Chapter title taken from _Ocean_ by Martin Garrix  & Khalid.... a song that I find sums up the relationship (or at the very least, WILL sum up) the relationship between Carter and Artemis. it's just.... 10001% them

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, November 5th, 2552

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A weight, a warmth, a cool and familiar burr. Artemis did not need to turn her head to know that it was Jun who had seated himself beside her, pressing his shoulder against hers.

A bitter laugh escaped her. “What is there to talk about?”

“You have a lot on your mind, Lieutenant. Trust me when I say, I know how to read people. Especially the individuals of this team. It’s very obvious that _something_ is weighing you down. _Something_ is constantly dominating your thoughts. And sooner or later it is going to cause you to slip up on the battlefield, whether you believe me when I say that or not.” Calm, simple, stating facts. Jun knew his brothers and sisters very well. He could gauge their moods, guess at what they were thinking, at what was going on. And although he’d struggled to read Artemis at first, since she was so _scattered_ , so _all over the place_ , as time had worn on, he’d gotten the hang of it.

The lone wolf sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, stared out towards the inky blackness of slipspace. “It’s..... complicated. There are a lot of things. Not all of them I can understand, myself. A lot of _feelings_ have been plaguing me, lately. Confusing. It’s starting to get on my nerves. And you’re not wrong about me slipping in combat.” She lifted her shirt, gesturing at the stitches on her midsection, before letting the material fall back into place. “Honour Guard Elite. Stabbed me with its Energy Sword. I wasn’t thinking straight, and it... got me. Could’ve been a lot worse than it was.”

“Maybe you should ruminate on something else for awhile.” Jun suggested, and his gaze, too, shifted towards the viewport. “What say you and I go a few rounds, eh? Nothing like a bout of sparring to clear the mind.”

“I...” A moment’s hesitation, before she took the offer, latched onto it, accepted. “Sure. Why not.” She rose to her feet and offered her hand to help the marksman to his. A decent sparring session with a partner couldn’t hurt. She’d logged hours in the gym on her own, but she’d almost _forgotten_ the absolute thrill that came with having a decent challenge.

* * *

“ _I don’t care_ —”

“ _Commander, have you even assessed the team recently? Sat them down and asked them where their heads are_ really _at? Think about it. Emile’s more sullen and less feisty than usual. Jorge is nearly nonstop sombre. Kat’s less opinionated. Artemis is both withdrawn and not. You’re exhausted, whether you’ll admit it or not.”_

 _“I....”_ A heavy sigh. “ _Yeah, you’re right. But what am I supposed to do about it? We’re headed back to Earth, and something tells me that there will be more skirmishes with the Covenant to come. Aside from whatever mess we still have to clean up down there.”_

_“Take a step back. We’ve got nobody in our direct chain of command anymore. I don’t think anybody’s going to particularly notice if six Spartans suddenly went missing, now would they, Commander?”_

_“We could use the frigate we’re on? It’s the best method to get anywhere through Slipspace.... since it’s already technically at our disposal.”_

_“I see where you’re headed. You still have Auntie Dot in your tacpad, don’t you? Or a fragment of her core processing?”_

_“The full AI. She’s not Smart Intelligence, but all we need is something dedicated to constantly running the ship. We can handle weapons and the rest of it. There are enough of us... None of us have the rudimentary training aside from Jorge, and I’m sure he’d be happy to give us a quick rundown. We’d pick it up quick enough, and he or Dot could correct any mistakes we could potentially make...”_

_“Sure.” A low chuckle. “So long as none of the mistakes are life-threatening.”_

_“Or are mistakes that will cause damage to the frigate. I see your point. At least we all know how to pilot_ most _craft, and while it’s nothing like handling a frigate, we’ll be in Slipspace most of the time.”_

_“Heh. I think Artemis will make the rest of us look bad, even Jorge. She’s just got that natural aptitude for piloting damn near any aircraft or space-faring vessel.”_

_“You keep thinking that, Jun.”_

Artemis heard one set of footsteps retreating into the distance, while the other set came closer. Her muscles froze, locking her into place; she felt as though she could not will herself to move. She had not been eavesdropping, not _really_. She had just so happened to stumble upon a conversation, and she had stayed to listen. Besides, it was not like she was doing anything _wrong_. It just was not like Carter to keep things from the team. Not anymore. There was not supposed to be _any_ secrets with the topic affecting the rest of them. Such things were a breach of _trust._

So why did it feel like she was about to receive a very stern talking to from whomever it was that was approaching where she stood?

She forced herself to relax, steadied her breathing, and remained calm even upon recognizing that it was Carter striding towards her, his expression not quite a frown, but not quite neutral, either. She raised her chin, held his gaze steadily, her own expression not giving away anything. She was _very_ good at maintaining what Jorge called a “poker face”; years of hiding how she felt inside had given her that edge.

“How much of that did you hear, Lieutenant?” Oh, so they were on a rank basis rather than a name basis, were they? Two could most _definitely_ play that game.

Artemis crossed her arms over her chest, defiant, defiant, and raised her chin a fraction of an inch higher. “Who says I heard anything, _Commander_?”

Carter clenched his jaw, looked like he was trying not to verbally bite her head off, or restrain himself from _something_. But the lone wolf didn’t let his expression and the thinly-veiled threat behind it faze her. She held his gaze, steady, steady, and saw in her peripheral his hands curling into fists. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice was even, cool, quiet steel and _I’m the boss_. “I know you’ve been standing here. So I am going to ask you again: how much of that did you hear?”

Once again, Artemis dodged his question with another one of her own. “So we’re talking about trust, are we? If that’s the case, then you shouldn’t be getting so defensive about this, should you, Commander.” His eyes flashed as the way she spat out his rank, defiant, defiant, and she had to keep the corner of her mouth from curling into a flickering smirk. “After all, last I recall, you said, and I quote, “matters concerning the team should _not_ be kept a secret, even if it is only for a short period of time before it is ready to be discussed”. Who is the one lying now?”

“Ex _cuse_ me?” Now the threat was more palpable. Deep blue eyes narrowed, dark eyebrows drew together in a frown. His weight shifted, body language changing.

The lone wolf, however, was still not having any of it. She snapped, snapped, snarled, stepping forwards into his personal space, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Don’t think you can get away with that kind of _bullshit_ , Commander.” Her voice was vicious, seething, the anger and frustration roiling within her. “You violating the team’s trust by keeping secrets is far _worse_ than me eavesdropping, and you damn well know it.”

Without waiting for him to voice a reply, she whirled on her heel and stormed off.

Damn him.

* * *

“Someone’s pissed.” Emile’s voice, low, calm, sounded out from behind her. Artemis stopped in her tracks, turned to look at him, canting her head to one side.

This was only the assault specialist. There was no need for her to be rude to him. After all, he wasn’t the one keeping secrets from the rest of the team. He wasn’t the one breaking the rules – for once in his career. “Pardon?”

Emile took a step back, raising his hands as if to ward off an attack. “Easy there, lone wolf.” He shook his head at her. “I can practically _smell_ how angry you are.”

The Lieutenant huffed a sigh, agitated by the sudden confrontation. Should she give him the benefit of the doubt? Sure, she was not as close to him as she was, say, Jorge, but as of right now, she trusted just about anyone save for the Commander. She rubbed the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger, groaning under her breath. “Just pissed at Carter. He’s a damned stubborn idiot.”

The way Emile raised one eyebrow, and the way he drew out the word _oh_ , set her on edge. Without thinking, her hands curled into fists, metaphorical hackles rising. Was he going to interrogate her? Was he going to have it out with her like the Commander had done? Then he chuckled, and her bad mood dissipated almost instantaneously. Again, without forethought, her body language shifted, and she found herself standing down.

“I was waitin’ for you two to butt heads over something or other,” he admitted, amusement colouring his voice. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re as stubborn as he is. Probably even more stubborn. And when two hard-headed people meet, of course they’re going to come up against one another. Just the way things go.”

Artemis didn’t know whether to find his glee over the subject to be endearing or irritating. Perhaps it was a little bit of both. Regardless, something did not _quite_ sit right with her. “...What makes you the be all and end all expert on stubborn people anyway?”

“Duh,” he answered, followed by another chuckle. “Kat’s a prime example of it. The amount of times she and Carter have butted heads over one thing or another in regards to operations... And she’s nowhere near as stubborn as he is, or as stubborn as you are. So y’know. You and the Commander interacting? It’s kind of a recipe for disaster, one way or another.”

 _He’s certainly not wrong about the whole “recipe for disaster” thing;_ a voice in her head reminded her ruefully, _the amount of times you’ve been injured this past month because you’re not thinking straight... And where are half of your problems coming from?_

The lone wolf gritted her teeth and sighed wearily. That was probably one of the worst of her issues lately, and she knew that she needed to solve it, fast. She just did not look forward to the conversation with the Commander that she _knew_ was going to take place. “So you... foresaw us butting heads?”

“Wouldn’t use that word, but sure, you could say that.” The Warrant Officer rocked back and forth on his heels, a twinkle in his bright green eyes. “I make it my business to know little details about my teammates like that.”

“Why?” she questioned flatly.

Emile shrugged. “Dunno. ’Cause it’s fun? Never really thought of it like that. Consequences ain’t my thing, if you haven’t noticed.”

Artemis laughed, the sound holding no mirth, and the smile that went with it not reaching her oceanic eyes. “You’re a _reeeeal_ piece of work, Emile.”

“Never heard that one before.” he answered cheerfully.

* * *

Aboard the UNSC _Stalwart Dawn_ , in Slipstream space, November 9th, 2552

Sure, it had taken Artemis four days to work up the courage to hold a conversation with the Commander. And no, it wasn’t because she was procrastinating – putting it off. Of course she wasn’t, because that was not her behaviour. She was just... busy. Distracted.

 _Admit it, you’ve been avoiding him_ the voice in her head chided her, _when you should have talked to him days ago._

_And why should I have? He was pissed at me, and yet I wasn’t the one going behind the team’s back?_

_Don’t you think that you’re breaking his trust of you just as much as he’s breaking the team’s trust? And you want him to trust you, don’t you? After the way you’ve opened up to him, don’t you want him to open up to you in return? He has nobody but Kat whom he_ really _trusts. Anyone can see that from a mile away._

_Oh shut up._

She groaned and shook her head. All those little voices, chattering away, arguing; they’d kept her awake at night. Not that she’d been sleeping well regardless, but it certainly didn’t help. And sure, Kat might have called her an idiot – but Kat didn’t know. The only one who’d figured out that she was upset with the Commander was Emile, and that was simply because the assault specialist was a nosy little bastard who just _had to_ poke around in his teammates’ business, whether it concerned him or not. Kat, on the other hand, was someone who did not like to push or pry, despite being Artemis’ best friend.

And it didn’t help that those seven years apart had put a strain on their friendship, no matter how much she hated to think about the fact that it was true. Things _were_ different between the two; they were not as close as they had once been. Sometimes Artemis longed for that. The simpler times of being a Spartan in training. Times when the only things she had to worry about were—

“Artemis?”

The door she’d been standing in front of slid open and the Lieutenant took a step back as Carter appeared before her, looking frazzled and very much like someone who had been in the middle of writing reports. Or, perhaps, trying to.

“Um...” She cleared her throat, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. “We need to... talk. I have a few things I need to say to you, and I, uh... yeah.”

His expression softened, although not quite a smile, and motioned for her to come into his quarters, sidling out of the way to let her into the room. “I figured you might have. With the way you’ve been avoiding me lately, I knew that something was up.”

_Had she really been that obvious?_

She did not realize she’d asked the question aloud until Carter looked at her sheepishly, shrugging a shoulder. “Not particularly, no,” he answered, voice quiet, “But then it’s my job to notice what’s going on with my team, and you’ve been distant for a longer period of time than usual. Doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re keeping to yourself for one reason or another.”

_....Oh._

“I guess I’ve just... been kinda pissed at you. Not that I don’t have fault in what happened, but... Sometimes it’s hard to trust other people. Some part of me seems to think that everyone has ulterior motives, even if it’s been proven to be otherwise. Just one of the things I have to deal with on a near-daily basis.” Artemis confessed, her words coming out in a mumble. She didn’t know why it had to be so damn _hard_ just to talk to him, now. It was simple conversation; nothing she hadn’t done countless times before. So why did she feel like she was right in the firing line, and Carter was at the other end of the gun?

The lone wolf suppressed a shudder, and pointedly stared at the wall at the opposite end of the room, ignoring whatever expression Carter’s features might now have held. She simply could not bring herself to face him. She did not want to see his.... what? Judgement? Pity? Anger? She didn’t know, and she didn’t _want_ to know.

However, the gentleness in his voice, when he spoke next, so startled her that she could not help but turn to face him, and she saw, too, that his eyes were soft, so soft. “Artemis... I’m not upset at you about that. Not anymore. Might’ve seemed like I was _then_ , but... I’ve been tired lately, and when I’m tired, I get irrational. Happens to the best of us. I’m sorry that it came across to you like that, but please... believe me when I say that the way I acted was wrong, and I apologize.” His eyebrows drew together, and although the look upon his countenance was anxiety, to her, it felt like tormented anguish.

A strange feeling fluttered in her chest, and the next intake of breath was a sharp one. He was apologizing to _her_? And yet she had been... it was her who had.... She found that she could not fault him for that. Not when she had been the irrational one. Not when she had been the one to get upset with him, hissed at him, bared her fangs and all but threatened to rip open his yielding throat.

This time, she could not stop the goosebumps that danced across her skin at the thought. She could not hurt him – did not _want_ to hurt him. That was not even a probability, let alone a possibility.

“I’m sorry, too.” The words came out in a rush. “I’ve just... I’ve kind of... I’ve been lost in my own head a lot more than usual lately and my own behaviour has been up the creek without a paddle even compared to normal and I... It’s getting harder and harder for me to _think_ , and some of it... A lot of it... A lot of it seems to be centred around _you_ as of late, and it’s just... I don’t know what to do anymore because I-I....” She ran a hand through her hair, frustrated, ignoring the tears welling up in her eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you nearly all the damn time and I don’t know what to do.”

And suddenly he was standing there before her, close, and then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her. It wasn’t like before: it wasn’t for healing her pain and it wasn’t teasing her; it was different and it felt far more _real_. Her pliant lips parted against his own, melding with his, and subconsciously her arms wrapped around his neck. And when they finally parted, Carter rested his forehead against hers and laughed softly.

“That’s funny, ’cause I’ve been having the same damn problem,” he divulged, his voice hoarse, and then his mouth curled into a grin, eyes sparkling, and oh, her heart most definitely did skip a beat at that, because he’d never smiled at anyone like _that_.

“Really? You have?” She canted her head at him, and thought that her chest would burst with happiness when she heard him laugh again, because his laughter was deep, rumbling, resonating..... _beautiful_. She wanted to hear him laugh more often; she had no doubt that the sound would stay with her for a few days afterwards, perhaps longer.

“Sure. And I hope you don’t have a problem with it, Lieutenant.” One black eyebrow arched in questioning, and his smile flickered into a smirk.

“Of course I don’t, Commander. And _I_ hope that _you_ don’t have a problem with me kissing you again. Because that was rather... _nice_.” She was sure that if she looked in a mirror, her own eyes would have been dancing with mischief and mirth... but more than that, _happiness_ , pure and simple.

Laughter rumbled from deep within his chest yet again, before he warmly voiced his reply of, “By all means, go right ahead.”


End file.
